The Cast Part 1
by Fyrie
Summary: There's a new cast in the London Production of CATS...this is only the beginning. (Chapter 19 added - 23-09-02)
1. The Cast - Part 1 - In Rehearsal

"I got in!"  
  
A sleepy head emerged from the duvet covers. "Hmm?" Sitting up, the taller of the two women yawned, pushing her loose hair back from her face as her flatmate bounced down on the bed beside her.  
  
A letter was thrust in front of her face. "I got in! I'm the new Etcetera!" The younger of the two paused, then proffered an envelope to her half-asleep companion. "And it looks like you're in too, Tommy."  
  
"If you're Etcetera...what the hell am I gonna be?" Snatching the letter, she tore it open, pulling the folded sheet of paper out. "Lesse..." Skimming her slightly slanted ebony eyes over the words, a small smile curving her lips up. "I got in too." She folded the letter, replaced it in the envelope and curled back under the duvet.  
  
"And?"  
  
One dark brow rose. "And what?"  
  
Smacking her hands down on her companion's legs with a wail of growing exasperation, there was an un-Tommy-like squeal. "Erm...I didn't realise you still had company, Tommy."  
  
The black-haired woman smirked. "You know Sylvie lives here now." Another sleepy face appeared alongside Tommy's, blue eyes fuzzy with indignation. Tommy pressed a kiss to her lover's lips.  
  
"Sorry, Syl. I thought you were already at work." The youngest of the three gave the blonde a sheepish grin. Groping around on the mattress, she found Tommy's leg and smacked at it. "Tell me!" Putting on her most brattish voice, she whined. "Please?"  
  
Drawing her petite blonde lover's head against her shoulder, the exotic- looking woman smiled broadly. "You're looking at the new Bombalurina."  
  
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!" Doing what would have to be her trademarked squeal, the blue-haired girl threw herself at her flatmate, squashing the unfortunate blond between her and the blonde's girlfriend. "Um...sorry, Syl."  
  
The blonde shrugged. "I don't mind...as long as Tommy doesn't mind me having another woman's tits rubbed in my face."  
  
"Horny bitch." Tommy chuckled, her cheek rubbing against the blonde's hair. Looking back to the young dancer she considered more of a sister than her own siblings, she reached up and mussed the girl's blue hair. "You go and practice kid. We're gonna...sleep some more.  
  
"Sure you are." Grinning, the petite dancer skipped out of the room, making a beeline for the phone, after carefully shutting the door behind her.  
  
*  
  
Antoine O'Neil paced across the rehearsal room floor, humming the tune of 'Skimbleshanks' under his breath. He was in his element now, preparing to help in teaching the new arrivals to the cast the ensemble routines.  
  
At last recollection, there were eight new arrivals in the August turnover, five females and three males. Two of them were swing. All the more to teach them. Antoine masked a smile. He hadn't realised how much he missed being an instructor.  
  
Straightening his back, he neatly crossed his ankles, then flopped loosely forward, his hands brushing the smooth floor. Lifting himself back up, he managed to side step to avoid a friendly slap on the rump.  
  
"Dang!"  
  
"Nice to see you too, Andre."  
  
One hand on his heart, the other grasping Antoine's shoulder, Andy sighed, shaking his head in mock consternation. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not Andre. I'm not even Andrew half the time."  
  
"Pardon, Andre." The peroxide blonde smothered a grin. "I...uh...'ow you say? Fuggedaboudit."  
  
A skeptical brown brow rose. "You know, sometimes I really doubt that you are French, Antoine. Or dare I say...Tony?"  
  
"Don't you feckin think about it!" The half-French, half-Irish could switch accents with the best of them. Bi-lingual and extremely intelligent, his family supported the theory that he was insane for wanting to dance for a living. His beach-bum look didn't help either.  
  
Andy Greyson grinned widely. One of the longest standing Swings in the current cast, the twenty-four year old had fought long and hard to get into the cast. His abilities were never questioned, but his timing was always atrocious. Every audition he had made it to, a 'big name' had been lined up for the same roles.  
  
So, out of desperation, he had tottered into an audition for a new Grizabella in two-inch heels, a scarlet cocktail dress and with his dark hair loose, only to lose the part when he had belted out the song in an utterly male voice.  
  
Unsurprisingly, the casting agents had remembered him. No matter how they tried, the image of a rough Northern lad in a frock was permanently burned into their collective memories. The sound of his voice as he ignored the order to stop and sang the full version of Memory a capella and perfectly in tune, stuck with them too.  
  
So, next changeover, he had been pulled in as Swing. Not the prime role he had hoped for, but being understudy for five of the main male characters - he told himself - was better than not being in the show.  
  
Plus, he got to play all of the best roles at least once a month. A bit of variety never hurt anyone. Plus it was fun.  
  
"So what's the buzz around here?" He gestured around the room. Several other cast members were around, in particular, those who were remaining in the cast, as well as some eager-looking young new dancers.  
  
Antoine glanced at the list pinned to the wall. "We're still waiting for a few people before we can get started." He explained.  
  
As if on cue, the door crashed inwards, revealing two figures. "Jonny boy!"  
  
The current Mungojerrie, Jonny Nicholas, swung around to face the owner of the voice. A grin quickly lit up his features. "Hey! It's the blue lady!" He and the new arrival met midway across the room, the slightly taller of the two swinging the smaller off their feet.  
  
"Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie!" The blue-haired girl in the dancer's arms shrieked, her feet flailing for a foothold unsuccessfully.  
  
"Lemme guess..." Andy leaned closer to Antoine. "That has to be our new Etcetera."  
  
"Got it in one." His blonde companion agreed, eyeing the girl curiously. She really looked like she would be more comfortable in a punk band. Rows of earrings ran up each ear, a stud glinting at her nose. Pale blue eyes lined with black liner and carefully applied makeup looked massive in her elfin face, lips a deep shade red.  
  
In a tight-cropped top, her toned belly was bared, a ring of fire circling her pierced navel. A pair of cat's eyes peeked out from beneath the back of the shirt. Hacked off denim shorts barely covered her rear, her lean arms and legs bare but for the immense boots on her tiny feet.  
  
"So you finally joined our esteemed ranks, then?" Jonny was now holding the grinning girl at arm's length, looking her up and down. "So who did you kill for privilege?"  
  
She reached out to poke him in the chest. "I'll have you know that I'm a damn good dancer! I could be a better Mungo than you, if I wanted to." She paused, looked down at her body. "And if I was male."  
  
"She tried the double cartwheel the other day." A sultry voice purred from the doorway. "She didn't realise you need two people. It was...rather amusing."  
  
All eyes swung to the glamorous and striking figure in the door. Tall with a smoothly curved figure, the woman had a tint of an oriental look in her features, her eyes dark, hair long, black and wavy silk to her waist.  
  
"Did not!" The blue-haired girl stuck her tongue out, only for Jonny to firmly lick it. "Ew! Jonny! What would your boyfriend say?"  
  
"He would say it served you right for sticking your tongue out." Jonny wrapped his arms around her waist and grinned. "How you doing, Tommy?"  
  
The dark-haired woman shrugged expressively, sashaying into the room as if oblivious to the fact that every pair of eyes was on her. "I have Etcetera living with me and you want to know how I'm doing?" She rolled her eyes and waved dismissively. "Men. Useless."  
  
Strolling over to Antoine and Andy, the taller of the two new arrivals gave them both a dazzling smile. Her every move screamed sex and she knew how to use it to her advantage. "I'm guessing one of you is in charge here."  
  
Andy vaguely managed to point at Antoine. Normally, he didn't look at women who were so overtly sexual, but this one had knocked his socks off. If he had ever imagined Bombalurina as a woman, this was her.  
  
"I'm Thomasina. Most people just call me Tommy." She offered her hand to the older of the two men. He nodded, shook the extended hand politely.  
  
"Antoine." He said.  
  
"Who's the sex-bomb?" The company's Asparagus approached, looking the woman up and down with clear interest.  
  
Glancing at him, lips arching in a smirk, Tommy feigned a breathy voice. "Ooh! A man! Can you take me back to your cave to rut with you, oh powerful manly man?" Her laughter was contagious, her hair swaying as she shook her head. "I need to know what time we finish, so I can have my partner put the dinner on."  
  
"Lucky guy." John Marquez spread his hand on his chest and sighed expressively.  
  
"Um...girl."  
  
"Um...pardon?"  
  
Tommy's grin widened. "My significant other. She's a she. A female. A girl. A non-male...as far as I know anyway." She paused, offered her hand. "I never introduced myself properly, did I? I'm Thomasina, radical feminist and lesbian and hater of all things penis-endowed, which I hope you won't take personally. Bad experiences. Nasty story." She smiled once again. "No offence to any of you delightful chaps though."  
  
"And you're our new sex-kitten, Bomba? Lover of all things male and horny?"  
  
Preening, Tommy nodded. "What can I say? I'm a good actress."  
  
"Melissa!" Antoine waved one of the other women over. "You gotta meet your replacement, darlin'. She's priceless." A willowy brunette made her way across. "Tommy, meet Melissa, our current Bomba and previously a classy Cassandra."  
  
"Two Bomb's together...are you sure that's a good idea?" Melissa gave the dark-haired woman a welcoming smile. "Nice to see they got someone who can walk the walk and talk the talk too."  
  
Tommy shrugged with a pleasant smile. "I try."  
  
On the other side of the room, Jonny had dragged his blue-haired companion over to meet his latest Rumpleteazer. The girl was surprisingly shy, considering the role she played, her cheeks flushing as she took in the punk girl.  
  
"So...what name do you go by now?" Jonny had forgotten to ask that minor detail.  
  
"Just Blue." Arm still around his waist, she grinned. "It's easy enough to remember unless you happen to be colour blind."  
  
Another pair of young men joined the triad, identical grins on identical faces. "So we got us a new Etcetera to torment, huh?" One of the two remarked, his dark brown eyes glinting with mischief. "Does she bite, Jonny?"  
  
"Only if provoked." Grinning at the blue-haired girl, he gestured to the identical young men, both of whom were just over the same height as her. "Blue, meet Will and Nicky Johnson. Don't ask which is which cos no one...not even wardrobe know."  
  
Offering a hand, she couldn't help laughing as the two fought to shake first. "Please tell me they don't play anyone like Munkustrap and Macavity. Seeing those two bitch-slapping each other would be beyond ridiculous."  
  
"One of them is Bill Bailey and the other is Carbucketty." Swatting the two away, the fight developed into a pouncing match, both of the brunettes yelling indignantly and tumbling each other on the floor. "You wouldn't think they were kittens to look at them. They're so mature and dignified, aren't they?"  
  
Blue chuckled, her arm looped through his. "And the big guy?"  
  
"Big guy?" She gestured to a tall, shaven-headed man who was striding towards the tussling brothers purposefully. "Oh! That's Robbie." She arched a brow. "You mean character? He plays Munkustrap."  
  
"Munkustrap?" She echoed, staring at the tough-looking man. Abruptly, he grabbed the twins, sending them both rolling in opposite directions, grinning as they assumed their kitten roles, fawning over him and vying for pats on the head.  
  
"Do those kids ever stay out of character?" An older-looking women drawled. Her ash-blonde hair hung in a tight braid at the base of her neck, her slim face defined and delicate. "Really, they should behave more." She glided forward to meet the new cast girl. "Joely."  
  
Blue nodded. "I'm Blue." She shook the extended hand with a grin. "You have to be Cassandra...you've got the moves for it..."  
  
Joely shrugged modestly. "One of those little perks of being made of rubber." She smiled.  
  
"What's made of rubber?"  
  
"Um...nothing, Tommy." Blue grinned sweetly at her roommate. Dropping onto the floor, she stretched her slim body, until her chin was resting just above her knees, her hands wrapped around her ankles. "When do we get started?"  
  
Antoine and Andy crossed the room. "As soon as our new Mistoffelees shows face."  
  
"Anyone I know?" Blue glanced up at them, then to Tommy, who was stretching along a wall bar. "Tom?"  
  
The older dancer shrugged. "I don't know every dancer in the city, kid." Lifting her leg parallel with her body, she pulled a face at her younger friend. "Most of them, yes, but not all of them."  
  
"What's his name?"  
  
Antoine grinned, the other dancers spread around the room already engaged in their warm-ups. "Malcolm Donovan."  
  
Abruptly, Tommy looked away from Blue, staring fixedly at a spot on the mirror. The younger of the two crooked a brow and laughed out loud. "So, Tommy," She drawled conversationally. "Malcolm Donovan.heard of him?"  
  
Jerking her foot off the bar and deliberately catching her roommate across the head, she shot a mock-glare at the indignant blue-haired girl. "Well, yeah. And he's not the guy I woulda cast as Misto."  
  
"How so?"  
  
A shadowy figure drifting into the room answered Andy's question. Shrouded in a trailing, black leather jacket, with hands thrust deep into the pockets, his face was slowly lifted, pale eyes etched in black.  
  
"Oh. My. God!" Blue back-flipped onto her feet, gaping at the new arrival. "You're telling me this is Misto? As in the magic kitty?"  
  
The young man nodded. "That I am."  
  
"Dude!" Raising her hand, she gave the startled dancer a high five. "You have the coolest hair, man!"  
  
Self-consciously raising his hand to the black- and red-streaked mane that hung around his shoulders, he half-grinned. "Yours isn't too bad, either." He nodded towards her vivid peacock blue spikes.  
  
"Mal, nice to see you again." Tommy nodded a polite greeting, pulling Blue back from him by the back of her shorts. "Lemme guess.you went for the magic kitty so you could use your own make-up, huh?"  
  
He spread his hands in a miniscule shrug. "I'm under strict orders to follow the given patterns." He admitted with a threat of a smile, slipping his trench coat from his shoulders and tossing it onto the growing pile of bags in the corner.  
  
In spite of his ominous appearance, his loose sweat pants and T-shirt that had been concealed by the trench seemed to make him fit in with the rest of the group now. He bent and pulled his huge boots off to reveal well- used dance shoes. Pulling his hair back into a tight ponytail, he clapped his hands together and nodded. "Are we ready?"  
  
"You know," Andy murmured, half to himself. "The only time I saw such a dramatic change before, I swear the guy was called Clark Kent."  
  
A high-pitched giggle from Blue immediately pulled all attention away from the gothic Mistoffelees, the punk girl hastily slapping her hand over her mouth to stifle another demented giggle fit.  
  
"Are you laughing at me?" Andy took a step towards the girl, who was at least a foot and a half shorter than him, his hands on his hips. "I mean, if you are laughing at me, I'll not be.amused." With each word he had bent closer and closer to her, trying to fight the urge to grin.  
  
Leaning back in time with his bending forward until she was practically bent double, she blinked up at him, eyes full of innocence. "Me? Laugh?" Shaking her head, she choked on a giggle. "Nope! No, sir! Not me! I'd never laugh at you!"  
  
"Um.Andy, leave the kitten alone." Antoine suggested, his lips twitching with the threat of a smile. The actor sighed, glanced back down at his 'victim', who nodded in agreement with her peroxide saviour.  
  
"S'right! You heard! Leave me 'lone! You.you.big bully!" Balanced on her hands and feet, she shuffled away from him, still bent over, until she had space to flip her feet over and land neatly on them, straightening to her full four feet, eleven inches. "I," She prodded him firmly on the chest, barely reaching his sternum, "Ain't afraid of you!"  
  
Clearing his throat, Antoine waved the grinning rivals apart. "I think its about time we got started, people." He suggested. "We've got a long day of rehearsal ahead and I suggest we should get it underway before lunchtime."  
  
Rubbing her head across Andy's chest, Blue did a merry cartwheel. "Okie! Let's go, everyone! Let's dance our tushies off!"  
  
"Is she always so.?" Antoine furtively shot a questioning look at Tommy.  
  
The dark woman nodded, suppressing a small smile. "Always." She replied, as the younger girl started bouncing on the spot.  
  
*  
  
Leaning against the tall mirrors, Jonny and Antoine watched their latest Etcetera watch her feet carefully as she slowed down the tap routine, then gradually built up her pace, eyes never rising from her feet.  
  
Ad libbing as she went, she swept rapidly into a routine more familiar to the Rocky Horror Show, spinning her way dizzyingly across the smooth floor.  
  
"When Tommy said she was always like that." Antoine trailed off helplessly, shaking his head in disbelief. "I didn't believe her."  
  
Jonny chuckled. "My friend," He drawled, smiling. "You have finally met the living incarnation of Etcetera." He took a swig from his water bottle and swilled it in his dry mouth. "She's worked far harder than this before."  
  
Spinning to a halt beside the two men, Blue grinned and shakily steadied herself against Jonny. "Who has?"  
  
Jonny gave the petite girl an affection hug, as she dug into one of her pockets and withdrew a paper bag of jelly babies with a delighted squeal. "You, ugly. What was it? Six hour-long shows a day, six days a week?"  
  
Viciously biting the head off a red baby, she shrugged. "Something like that." Popping the other half of the mutilated jelly baby into her mouth, she winked. "Most of them were private performances though. You'd be amazed what people would pay to see."  
  
"How did you manage to stay on your feet for all of them?" Antoine inquired weakly, accepting a proffered sweet. "I'm exhausted after the two shows on matinee days. I can't imagine dancing for another two hours on top of them."  
  
Dropping onto her rear, Blue steered her legs into the splits and stretched to touch each foot in turn. "Stamina, I guess." She replied. "And the thought of being able to buy enough shelter and food to see me through the next day." She paused, rolling onto her feet again. "Plus, an endless supply of jelly babies."  
  
"Jelly babies?"  
  
She nodded, tossing one up in the air, aiming to catch it in her mouth and yelping in surprise as it bounced off her nose and skittered away across the floor. "Energy bursts, plus sugar highs all rolled into one yummy little bundle."  
  
"Sweeties!" All three swung round to see the grinning face of 'Etcetera's' sidekick, Electra. Another of the new cast members, Georgina was a level of craziness that almost matched the blue-haired, sweet- supplied dancer. "Gimme!" Grabbing the paper bag, she darted off across the room, closely followed by the shrieking Blue.  
  
Malcolm and Tommy, who were just returning from their cigarette break with several of the other cast members, just avoided being knocked over backwards, as first Georgina, then Blue dived between their feet.  
  
Nicky and Will Jonson were quick to join the fray. "Wassin the bag? Huh? Huh?"  
  
"She got my sweeties!" Blue mournfully pouted, shrieking all the louder as one of the Jonson twins pinned her and the other went after the bag. "No fair! Leccie! Leccie! Help! They wanna steal my sweets!"  
  
Slipping easily into character, the older 'cats' tutted in disapproval at the kittenish antics, waiting for the firm hand of Munkustrap to come into play.  
  
He, of course, was the last person to enter the room, to be greeted by the bizarre sight of Blue sitting on top of one of the Jonsons. A paper bag was gripped firmly in her mouth, her hands dancing on the howling boy's stomach.  
  
Barely a foot away, the other Jonson and Georgina were tussling, trying to snatch the bag from the other girl unsuccessfully.  
  
"Nooooooooooooow!"  
  
Abruptly, all four froze. One hand hanging inches above her victim's chest, both Blue and whichever Jonson it was raised innocent eyes to Robbie. Georgina and the other twin rolled apart and did the same.  
  
Blinking owlishly, Blue cracked into a wide grin as Robbie's stern expression melted away as he started to chuckle. Bouncing off the dancer beneath her, she trotted over and offered the bag of babies. "Want one?"  
  
"Why can't you lot ever behave?" A somewhat aggravated voice sighed. "Rehearsals are meant to be taken seriously, not clowned around in."  
  
"Whoa." Georgina muttered, looking at her broad-strapped watch. "She took longer than usual to be her usual bitchy self. I wonder if she's feeling okay."  
  
Both Jonsons sniggered and the other cast members near enough to hear what the girl had said, cleared their throats and smothered wry grins. No matter how much they toed the line, nothing was ever good enough for Kashka Henderson.  
  
Unbeknownst to her, the actress-cum-singer-dancer was developing a reputation. On top of that, it was known to the more light-hearted cast members that Andy Greyson could do a wicked impression of her.  
  
"They're just trying out their characters." Benjamin tried to smooth the woman's ruffled feathers. "No harm in that, is there?"  
  
Crossing her arms over her chest, Kashka gave a huff of indignation, which Andy made a mental note to add to his repetoire. "I just wants things to go right, but how can they, when the newbies won't behave and rehearse like they're meant to?"  
  
"These newbies." Robbie gestured to them in the group, some of who were following the saga, others who were stretching and re-warming up on the barre. "Have got their routines as well as you did, after less than a fortnight of rehearsal."  
  
Reluctantly relinquishing the argument, Kashka pulled her sweater off and moved to a vacant spot on the barre to stretch. "Well, shall we get on with the rehearsal then?" She demanded snippily.  
  
Glancing over at the rehearsal pianist, Antoine nodded. "We're working some more on the ball today. We've still got some rough edges to smooth there."  
  
*  
  
"Having fun?" Malcolm lifted his eyes from the mirror to find his fellow black- and white cat grinning down at him, barely recognisable in the carefully applied Alonzo make-up.  
  
He shrugged expressively. "I'm not used to doing black lines sideways. Normally, I have then going up and down over my eyes." He stared back at the mirror dolefully. "Do my brows look okay?"  
  
"Honey," Raymond winked at him. "You gotta tweeze more often, but on the painting side, you got ten outta ten."  
  
Half-grinning at the taller dancer, Malcolm shook his head and carefully added his cat nose. Years of applying delicate eye-make-up had blessed him with an exceptionally steady painting hand.  
  
"Anyone told you that you're crazy recently?"  
  
Swinging around the mirror and dropping onto the spare stool beside the young dancer, Raymond grinned again, eyes glinting devilishly, his almost- afro hair standing on and end and completely at odds with his painted face.  
  
"They don't tell me nothin' else around here." He glanced down at himself, swinging his tail into his blue jean-clad lap. "Gotta love the life when you can dress as a big pussy for a livin'."  
  
Malcolm couldn't help chuckling softly, although he knew it went completely against his nature. He didn't chuckle. At least, not in front of anyone else, but the big, brash and completely barmy American.  
  
Raymond had been one of the actors who had both toured in America, played in CATS on Broadway, briefly spent some time in the Hamburg cast, before making his way over to join the London litter.  
  
"Why've you still got your make-up on? I thought it was a practise run today, to see how well we could manage."  
  
Leaning closer to the younger man, Raymond grabbed a brush to tidy up the thin black whiskers that lined the other man's cheeks. Smirking, he drawled. "This comin' from the dude who wears make-up twenty-four-seven?"  
  
"You know what I mean." Malcolm glanced back to the mirror, pleased with the result of his first attempt at the un-Crow-like Mistoffelees make-up. "We haven't even got our costumes yet."  
  
Raymond swung off the seat, his tail slapping against Malcolm's ribs. "Oops!" He grinned cheerfully. "I'm wearin' my face cos it looks so damn cute on me." He paused, pursed his lips. "You still comin' to eat with the new guys and Andy and Tony?"  
  
"Wouldn't miss it." Re-applying his nose, he gave his trade-marked half- grin to the massive actor, who nodded.  
  
"See ya, short-stuff." Disappearing out of the dressing room, Raymond's words carried back to him as he greeted the other cast members in their dressing areas, his voice not entirely too different to the man who had voiced Darth Vader.  
  
What had his name been again?  
  
Shrugging, Malcolm turned back to the mirror, wiggled his nose twice. Even if they couldn't pin-point the subtle nuances he'd made to the make- up, there was no way the management would miss the fact that Mistoffelees was one-hundred percent a gothic cat.  
  
*  
  
"I liked my Griz make-up!"  
  
"Ladies, please."  
  
"I'm Griz though, not you." Helen Marsden stuck her tongue out at Tommy in a purely mature fashion. The dark-haired woman raised her manicured, scarlet nails to her 'rival' in mock threat.  
  
"Don't make me use these on you, babe." She warned, keeping a straight face remarkably well in spite of Georgina and Blue's barely smothered giggles. "I got 'em. Trained with 'em. Black belt in bitch fights."  
  
"I can't believe I'm seein' this."  
  
Andy grinned at Antoine. "And you though the fresh ones would be less crazy than our old kids?" He wriggled his way between the new Bombalurina and Grizabella, gently steering Tommy's claws away from his face. "Dinner first, then showdown at twenty paces, all right? I want to enjoy the entertainment on a full stomach."  
  
Gracefully accepting the teasing caution, the two women looped arms, pulled a face at the young man and sauntered off in the direction of the restaurant that had been booked for the occasion.  
  
Holding the door open for the stragglers, Andy was the last in line at the buffet and found himself standing behind the solitary Blue, who was piling her plate with all manner of odd salads and vegetables.  
  
"Alone at last, eh, Blue?" He grinned at her, his one vivid green and one dark brown eye glinting mischievously. He splatted some kind of supposedly- healthy food onto his plate and waited for the witty retort that he had grown accustomed to.  
  
Her eyes seemed fixed uneasily on her plate. Shuffling from one foot to another, she shrugged stiffly. "Seems so."  
  
"What's up with you?" He gave her a playful nudge. "You're not usually little Miss shy-and-silent."  
  
Pulling away sharply, Blue back-stepped hastily. "I'm not allowed to be quiet, huh? I have to be bloody happy all the time?"  
  
Holding up his hands in submission, Andy hastily took a pacifying step back. "Easy, shorty. Easy! I don't bite!" He gave her a weak grin, spreading his hands. "But apparently you do, little one."  
  
"Wh-what did you call me?" The plate slipped from her hands, as she took another step backwards. The disc of white china seemed to fall in slow motion, shattering deafeningly on the smooth floor.  
  
"Kid?"  
  
Blue's pale eyes snapped towards her roommate, her face paler than Andy could recall seeing it before. Her voice came out as a strangled croak. "T- Tommy?" Supporting herself on the buffet, she visibly sagged against the older female dancer. "I.I couldn't help it, Tommy.I thought."  
  
"Hey, kid, I know." Giving the bewildered Andy and sympathetic smile, Tommy took Blue by the hand and led the younger girl back to her table, drawing her into the booth beside her. Her arm protectively around the younger girl, she continued the conversation as if she'd never stopped.  
  
Jonny beckoned Andy towards the booth he had acquired. Sliding in between Raymond and Antoine, he gave them a wry grin.  
  
"Don't worry about the blue-lady." The only other non-new-cast member gave the brunette a reassuring smile. "She's just got some way bad relationship issues. It's not just you, Andy."  
  
A cigarette packet was thrust under his nose. Shaking his head with a small smile at Malcolm, he said. "Thanks, but no."  
  
"No problem. Mind if I.?" The others shook their head. Malcolm's black- lipped grin widened. As always, his makeup was neat. "Y'know, I'm thinking of changing my name." He pulled his lighter out, the skull design worn under his fingers.  
  
"Changin' your name, hon? Lemme suggest Raymond." Smacking his lips, the massive black dancer winked. "Perfect name, ain't it?"  
  
Ducking his head, half-shy, Malcolm smothered a chuckle. "Actually, I prefer Malcolm Draven. Got a better ring to it." Lighting his cigarette, he inhaled a drag and blew out a smoke ring. "And," He added, as an afterthought. "It's better known than my real name."  
  
"So you steal his make-up and his name?" Tommy's voice rang over Jonny's shoulder, her eyes dancing devilishly. His face stoic, Malcolm flicked his finger up in the tall dancer's direction. "Love you too, booger."  
  
"Anyone else really want to smack her?" Helen Marsden grumbled.  
  
Tommy's eyes turned with interest to her co-actress. "Would that be with or without a paddle, Hel? Or do you prefer barehanded?"  
  
"Don't start, Tommy." Blue groaned quietly, half-shrieking as her roommate pounced at her and planted a firm kiss on her lips. "Ick! Tommy! How many times do I gotta tell you to quit it! No threesomes, ever!"  
  
Tommy smirked. "Spoilsport."  
  
Antoine couldn't smother a laugh, dishing out the drinks that had been delivered carefully to the table. "Here's to tomorrow night, people." Raising his glass, he toasted them all. "To the first night for all of us on a stage full of lunatics!"  
  
"Did we just get insulted?" Georgina demanded with a grin.  
  
"Most probably." Andy laughed, raising his glass. "Good luck to all of you and try not to break too many legs or arms in the process."  
  
"Someone sounds paranoid." Blue flashed a shy smile at the dark-haired actor.  
  
"It's not like I haven't got good reason to be with you lot around." Andy caught Tommy smiling widely at him out of the corner of his eye. Things were going to be okay between them now, he was certain of that. "Here's to tomorrow night."  
  
* 


	2. The Cast - Part 2 - First Night

Fitting her glowing eyes on, Tommy gave Antoine the thumbs up

Fitting her glowing eyes on, Tommy gave Antoine the thumbs up. It was the first night for all the changeover cast and the usual, first-night nerves had kicked in half an hour before, as they were getting into costume.

A blur of white, black and brown sped passed, closely followed by another darker one. Both Skimbleshanks and Bombalurina exchanged lop-sided grins, easily recognising the two tiny runners who had clearly been up to something on the opposite side of the set.

"Do we even want to know?" Jordan murmured, adjusting his glowing eyes on his Coricopat wig with a chuckle.

"Probably safer not to." Antoine admitted with a grin. Gesturing Tommy forward as the orchestra started up and the conductor flashed a wide grin in the direction of one of the cameras, Antoine moved behind her and gave her a pat on the back. "Have fun." "Try and stop me!"

***

"There's a man over there..."

In the full assembly of cats, each of the new cast members shot a grin at another. They'd managed the first dance number. With that out of the way, things could really only get better.

Spreading through the audience for the naming, Malcolm gradually edged backwards, sliding swiftly into the wide pipe behind him as soon as 'the most boring song in the world' was finished, his knees balanced on the ledge carefully.

Or, at least they were until he felt a large hand tickling at the soles of his feet from below. Unable to see behind, he kicked out as best he could, trying to smother a fit of demented giggles, which would ruin the delicacy of Victoria's dance.

On cue, he scooted out of the pipe, practically falling onto his feet to skip across the smooth surface of the stage. Glancing back, he spotted a familiar, grinning black and white visage peeping out of the pipe, a white hand waving naughtily.

Shaking his head, he turned to the waiting Victoria and scratched his way up her raised leg with a flourish. "Jellicle cats, come out tonight, Jellicle cats come one come all..." 

Immediately the stage filled with people from all directions, emerging from pipes, traps and the concealed opening behind the junk. Moving into the triangle next to Georgina and whichever of the twins were playing Carbucketty, he received a wink from them.

He had just missed being put in the back ranks. As a taller than average Mistoffelees, at five foot eight, he was the tallest of the group who were identified as "The Kitts" by most of the cast and crew. A close second was Jonny, as Mungojerrie at five foot six.

Raymond and Andy were the tallest on the stage. Andy had been pulled in at the last minute when Tony, who played Admetus, had efficiently wrapped his clapped-out Renault around a lamp post near his flat.

Suffering from shock, he'd been kept in hospital, horrified by the fact that he'd had barely missed flattening his neighbour's ageing cat. Jokes about Grizabella the Glamour Splat were already in circulation. Naturally, Andy was the source.

Glancing over her shoulder, Georgina caught Blue's eye and the two girls grinned at one another. The first songs had been survived and they were still standing, panting for breath and sweating more than they dreamed possible, but alive.

Taking their cue from Robbie, they scattered, kittens piling in a heap in front of the car as the Eastender did the introduction of the Gumbie Cat, with much face-pulling from Mistoffelees. 

Maintaining a proud expression proved difficult for Tommy. Seeing her small, severe goth friend grinning and sticking his tongue out was just far too disturbing. Turning to Kashka as if in conversation, she couldn't help giggling.

Kashka half-rolled her eyes, then pulled on her 'I'm nice' face as Robbie swung around to hear them sing. 

Tossing her mouse head to one of the twins, Blue scooted through the over to hunt down the beetle costumes. Determined to be the first beetle on, she pulled on her gear quickly and took her position, grinning at the startled twin.

"Early cat catches the bug." She winked, blew a kiss and tapped wildly out onto the stage. 'Munkustrap' and 'Jenny' looked as bewildered as the rest of the crew, as Blue went into her frenzied Columbia routine. 'Jenny' caught her tail and pulled her to a spinning halt, gesturing the small dancer off the stage. Blue pouted and stomped off with impressively noisy steps.

Receiving a fork from the smirking Andy, she shrugged helplessly and ducked back into the hiding place, ready to attack the Gumbie with her new and oh-so-deadly weapon.

Stalking along behind 'Jenny', gesturing for the audience to be quiet, she raised the fork for the blow, only for 'Jenny' to whip around a moment earlier than she was meant to. Snatching the fork, the older women grinned devilishly and steered the small dancer back into her place. 

Joining in the group routine alongside Jonny, Raymond and Joely, Blue caught the reprimanding look shot in her direction by her flatmate. She flashed a devilish grin, her feet starting to tap of their own accord.

Forming the tap line, the tiny dancer knew she looked ridiculous stuck between the massive Raymond and tall and lean Joely, both of whom were at least a full head taller than she was.

Grinning widely, she tried to look indignant when 'Alonzo' bopped her on the head with his knife.

Steered to the back, she was the first to run off and deposit her beetle costume, in time for the familiar "Heyeyeyey!" from the back of the stage. Norma - in full Tugger regalia - erupted through his trap and spotted Etcetera faint at the front of the stage. 

Blue was entirely in her element, fawning all over the grinning actor. However, she had one serious rival in the show-stealing stakes. That rival came in a stunning, six foot, voluptuous red form.

Playing to the crowd for all she was worth, Tommy strutted up to Norman. Her body rubbed to his, she huskily sang her lines. He blinked, then fanned himself with a hand, mouthing "Whoa momma!" in the direction of the audience.

Instead of snatching her hand as he was meant to, he caught her leg as she kicked up and sniffed his way down, before dropping her into the splits with a cry of "No!" but his expression said 'I'll see you later.'

Even though she was meant to have lost his attention, she made sure he couldn't ignore her in the least, despite all of Etcetera's best attempts to scream him senseless.

One black and white gloved hand slid sleekly over his hip, getting a little too close to a certain area for his liking. To the audiences' glee, his high note went that little bit higher as the furtive hand slid lower and he swung around to face Bombalurina, only to feel Etcetera latch onto his leg, squealing for all she was worth.

With a jaunty thrust of his hips, Etcetera somersaulted away backwards across the stage and he grinned, with a cocky "Huh!", before finishing with an equally jaunty toss of his mane and smirking "About it."

On her feet and chasing Norman around the stage, Blue received a teasing grin from Andy, who shook his head. Unfortunately, he was paying too close attention to her and ran squarely into the back of Raymond. The Alonzo-bedecked actor's eyes widened in surprise, then he grinned coyly at Andy, who blinked twice, then stepped back VERY quickly.

Having the shortest legs, Blue was left at the back of the crowd adulating Tugger on the pipe, but it also meant she and Georgina were the first to reach Helen Marsden in her Grizabella regalia, looking far too aloof and proud. The minute she was noticed, however, she seemed completely startled by the fact someone was looking at her and staggered closer.

Together, Blue and Georgina edged forward, exchanging puzzled looks with one another, only to be halted by Robbie, his ominous expression combined with his severe Munkustrap make-up making Grizabella stop short and flinch.

Creeping towards the back of the stage, the two stopped beside Tommy, one kneeling on either side of her. She ran a hand over each of their wigs, a look of disdain on her face. Kashka moved forward, singing her lines hauntingly.

While she may have been the worst person in the world to work with, none of the crew could complain about Kashka's ability. Her voice rose and fell, convincingly emotional as she reached out to the aging cat. Tommy's throaty voice rose to join that of the older actress, the red-garbed dancer moving to join the gold and black one.

Helen disappeared down one of the ramps, heading back towards her dressing room to chat online, much to Blue's envy. As Kashka skidded to the edge of the stage on her knees, the majority of the kittens followed. 

On her hands and knees, Georgina lifted one hand to shield her eyes as she scanned the audience. Blue knelt up and propped herself on her friend's back with her forearm, imitating the hand gesture, peering blankly at the front row and cocking her head cutely. Both girls received a few laughs and a distinctly bitter glare from Kashka.

Scrambling head over heels at the introduction of Bustopher, the girls hurried towards the car boot. Gathering around Jellylorum, Bombalurina and Jennyanydots, Blue positioned herself between Jellylorum's knees and received a firm rub between the ears for her effort, almost falling over with pleasure, her leg waggling in the air.

Georgina clawed at her leg playfully, earning a dark look from Jennyanydots, who seemed determined to keep the attention on her, or at least on Bustopher. Exchanging faint grins, they settled down to bob along in time to the music, taking it as a chance to get their breath back.

While the 'queens' were seated for most of the song, the so-called 'big boys' had the duty of singing around Bustopher. However, Mistoffelees was so distracted by Alonzo playing with his tail that he almost dropped the larger cat when he leaned back. Glaring daggers at the big, brash dancer, Malcolm couldn't help grinning as Raymond pouted at him.

Crawling forwards, the two youngest girls exchanged relieved glances, knowing it was almost time for a break. "I need to pee." Georgina mouthed in Blue's direction. Andy, above them, heard her and tried to direct her behind Bustopher, nodding that he was a perfect spot for it.

However, a Macavity scare occurred.

Kashka fled from Tommy's side, darting this way and that, bending over Blue and Georgina fearfully, before throwing her arm upwards and screaming "Macavity!". Robbie moved to her side, but all of the cast were scattering off into the wings.

"Stop!" Blue and Georgina were skidding down a ramp. "Wait!" They ducked out of the sight of the audience, scrambling for the stairs. Tommy caught up with them on the stairs and grinned at them. "Maybe it isn't Macavity!"

Somehow, they had been beaten up the stairs, though. Andy was already lolling on one of the sofas, sipping from a can of cola. "Newbies!" He threw his arms wide in mock-celebration, then swore under his breath as his drink splashed his warmers. Rubbing at it, he put the can down and grinned as Blue and Georgina both snagged a tumbler of juice from the counter and sat down for a moments break, before racing down the stairs again. "How are you enjoying it?"

"If we could remove whatever it is that's unfortunate enough to be stuck up Kashka's arse, I know I'd be having a ball." Swallowing a mouthful of watered-down juice, Georgina pulled a face. "Maybe that's asking for a miracle, though."

Blue chuckled. "Wishful thinking, man." She remarked, finishing her drink, then darting over to check her make-up was intact at the nearest mirror. She returned to the couch. "Its the big, boring song now...nap time on stage..."

"Speaking of which, time for us to go." 

They joined the flood of cats pouring down the stairs, the two kittens ascending to another level of the stage. Just in their line of sight, they would see Tommy behind the set. Catching their eyes, she mimed holding a cigarette to her lips and mouthed. "I'm gagging for one!" "I bet!" Blue mouthed back. Bombalurina made a very rude gesture at the two kittens, who giggled and ducked down, ready to slide down over the car. The older cats had the job of scaring Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser, so as soon as the chase music began, both Georgina and Blue shot down the car and spun to halt on the stage as both of the catburglars raced up ramp and onto the bonnet.

Jonny puckered his lips and blew a kiss in Blue and Georgina's direction, until the haunting music started and all of them started to turn towards the audience, staring beyond them. The lean form of Malcolm was silhouetted as he rose on his knees and asked. "Old Deuteronomy?"

Leaving Robbie and Norman to cover the singing side of things, Malcolm glided off the stage, while the rest of them cast spread around, lying in all kinds of strange positions. On her stomach, one foot bent over her so far it was almost touching the back of her head, Blue saw Andy glance at her and wince. Her serene expression turned into a cocky grin and she tapped her toe against her wig.

Stretched on her side beside Blue, Tommy muttered "Show off." in the middle of a roll, that left her on her knees. Blue shrugged, on her side, one leg held at ninety degrees to her body, one hand reaching out to Robbie, who smiled and pawed her as Norman sang.

She was one in the lead group of kittens when Benjamin and Malcolm finally did appear in the stairway, walking towards the stage. Blue went scooting forward, stopping short when Robbie caught her tail, pouting until he released her the moment Bejamin stepped onto the stage.

Enthusiastically throwing her arms around the huge shaggy-coated form of Bejamin, she heard a yelp and peeked round to see Malcolm painfully rubbing his nose, his eyes suddenly unusually bright. "Oh!"

Malcolm grined faintly at her, touching his tender nose, then gingerly followed Deuteronomy, careful to stay out of reach of Blue's arms. Somehow, Raymond managed to get alongside him and gave him a nudge and nodded to his face. Malcolm smiled faintly and nodded that he was all right.

Sheepishly grinning at Malcolm, as they spread around the stage, Blue scrambled up to sit beside Bejamin, lying along the edge of the tyre, her head resting on his fuzzy thigh. She felt him stroke her wig and lifted her head with a grin, rubbing her head against his gloved 'paw'. Robbie was moving around the stage with his usual boundless enthusiasm, seeming totally excited about this wonderful story that he was telling about the "Pekes and the Pollicles", as if it was the first time, not the hundred-plus time he was telling it.

Apparently, though, Victoria and Etcetera up on the tyre go a bit excited during the first bout of barking. The more colourful of the two was spinning on her knees, dangerously close to the edge and was only prevented from falling by Deuteronomy's arm looping around her waist. She grinned and snuggled down beside him.

It was only when she noticed that Andy was nowhere in the Pollicle line that she realised that he wasn't anywhere on the stage. Normally, it would have been Alonzo who played Rumpus, but Raymond was apparently too wide in the shoulders to risk it, which meant that a swing would be doing it instead, which meant - she now realised - Andy!

He was going to be shot through a hole, using his head to open a trapdoor, hoping that it wouldn't jam and break his neck, or that he wouldn't be off the mark and have one or both of his arms ripped off.

Benjamin seemed to realise that she had suddenly tensed up and touched her shoulder soothingly, nodding for her to go down and join the pugs and the poms. Grabbing her yoghurt-pot-head, she nodded, slipping off the tyre, but still fretting for the tall dancer.

"Bark! Bark! Bark! Bark!"

Facing off to Raymond, who still managed to look incredibly goofy with the giant shoe box propped jauntily on his head. "Bark?" He cocked his head at her, making her crack into a wide grin and bark back at him.

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooow!"

Blue found herself biting her lip beneath her Pom disguise and physically jumped when a hand squeezed hers. She couldn't see beyond the Peke mask in front of her, but she knew Tommy was there and Tommy knew she was nervous about something. She returned the squeeze, moving across the stage, her eyes fixed on the startrap.

"The Great Rumpus Cat!"

The black form erupted out of the trapdoor and did the splits in the air, before landing neatly on his feet and flexing. Blue felt a surge of relief. It was more than clear that the big dancer had done the trap before. He flashed red eyes in their direction and she squeaked, ducking behind the nearest person. Andy was clearly loving his role, ignoring the tabby form of Robbie, who was clearly frustrated with the show-off of a super hero. After some serious flexing and preening on the part of Rumpus, Munkustrap got the cat's attention, gesturing in annoyance at the spiked-up hair.

One paw self-consciously smoothed down the Rumpus wig, his other pressed to his mouth in a gesture of acute embarrassment. Robbie apparently couldn't conceal a tight grin, bowing slightly as they continued their routine.

All those in Peke and Poll disguise hurriedly moved off to remove their props while Robbie and Andy finished the number. Ignoring Norman and his pipes and racing in front of Deuteronomy, they all stretched out their hands to him, when there was the familiar, deafening smash and flash of lights.

Kashka - as usual - was the first on her feet, darting this way and that. Spinning to Robbie, she gasped in fear and desperately screamed. "Macavity!"

Everyone scattered, racing off the stage to get to their places for their entrance for the prologue to the Jellicle Ball. Blue passed Raymond behind the stage and managed a furtive slap to his firm rear as he strutted past, receiving a mischievous wink for her efforts.

Ducking under the stage, she wove past a couple of technicians and one of the Jonson twins to climb up to the opening beneath the car's mudguard. Leaning out of the hole as far as she dared, she watched Raymond slink onstage, swiveling his pelvis seductively.

Rhiannon Harvey and Cassie Maynard - as Jemima and Victoria respectively - both eyed him as if he were the juiciest piece of meat they had ever seen. It might have been the truth, but they weren't about to admit it to the biggest queen in the Cast.

One of the Jonson twins flipped onto the stage passed her for his line and wiggled his rear rudely in Blue's direction. She made a mental note to swat him for it, later on, but settled for watching the rest of the crew making their way on, before her cue.

As one of the few gymnasts in the cast, her entry was made by a quick handspring into a somersault that landed her on her toes in front of Jellylorum and Jennyanydots a moment before the second Jonson twin went tumbling on his face beside her.

He stuck his tongue out at her, then bounced away to get picked on by the bigger 'toms', while Blue made her way over to swoon over Tugger. She managed to catch Tommy's eye and received a bright smile, as they moved to their positions for the first part of the ball. In one of the front ranks, Jonny and Georgina were to her left with Rhiannon and Cassie to her right. Every muscle in their bodies were tight as they bent their legs at the knee until their thighs were almost parallel with the stage, their arms extended and tense, their voices growing silent in anticipation of the coming routine.

The slowest steps of the Ball began, the slow turns and dips almost as painful as the fastest parts, every single one of them trying to hold the calm, steady rhythm, before the shrill discord that signified the introduction of the Ball.

Following the small group routines, they paired off for the minuet section. Blue was paired up with Robbie and she could see the determination in his face. It wasn't hard to see that the Ball was the most exhausting, but most exhilirating part of the show.

They all spread out once again, various little solo routines taking place. From the sidelines, Blue wanted to cheer as Tommy did her infamous bump-n-grind routine, stealing Mistoffelees thunder in the process.

However, when it was Mistoffelees' dance with Carbucketty, Malcolm was incredible, the smile never leaving his face. He was a good six inches taller than whichever Jonson twin was on, but when they finished, he made sure to stretch out a hand to touch Carbucketty, to show it had been a joint effort.

Almost the full cast was joining in the duck-n-spin routine, which Andy maintained should be called the 'murder by tail-whap' routine, in the lead up to the seemingly notorious group snuggle on the stage.

Raymond had the role of lifting Cassie - Victoria - during the "new way of looking at a pick-up line" scene, which had been cursed with another of Andy's captions. She was almost a foot shorter than him and, considering he had proved his strength by running up a flight of stairs with the shrieking Tommy flung over his shoulder the previous week, she was as light as a feather to him.

Moving forward to sink into the 'snuggle heap', Blue met Tommy's eyes and the older woman nodded reassuringly at her. Twirled around by Admetus, she froze, then nodded, sliding into the side splits, twisting and rolling into the middle of the kitty-pile. Andy slid in beside her and they exchanged faint grins as they raised their hands in unison.

All around them, she could see people panting, staring at the ceiling, clearly psyching themselves up for the routine that was to come. She fixed her eyes on Malcolm, almost directly opposite, knowing his movement was the signal and felt her heart start to thump against her ribs in anticipation.

As soon as he jerked upright, immediately followed by Jordan Pryce and Rachel Majors - in sync as Coricopat and Tantomile - the rest of the group started to move, the lights flickering as they wove around one another to their starting positions.

Along with the shortest members of the cast, Blue was placed at the front for the opening of the Ball sequence. However, it passed into a blur, everything and everyone moving so rapidly that it still amazed her that the dance steps were still recognizable.

Whizzing down one of the ramps, she took up her position at the edge of the aisle and saw Andy and Tommy give her the excited thumbs up from downstage, knowing all audience focus was on the dancing kittens at the front of the stage.

Inhaling a deep breath, she flexed her arms, then threw herself forward into a front flip. A gasp from behind her let her know at least some of the audience were watching her, but she ignored it and continued to flip her way around the length of the aisle. Landing neatly on her feet at the bottom of the other ramp, she shook herself with a grin and raced up onto the stage, trying to ignore the jelly feeling in her legs.

It was only when she was about to join in the rest of the routine that she heard the applause and grinned a little wider. Jenni - Rumpleteaser - shot her an impressed look as they started to closing routine of the Ball.

The music rose to a crescendo and the stage was shaking with the force of fifteen people dancing the same energetic steps in synchronisity. Racing back downstage towards Old Deuteronomy, all of them spun and darted upstage, as the music reaxched its climax, sliding to the front of the stage and freezing.

Panting heavily, Malcolm found himself crouched beside Tommy, who gave him a look that simply screamed 'we are SO having a fag break!' and was gasping for breath as he was, the applause deafening, and yet barely auudible over the poudning of the blood in their ears.

Slowly turning, some of them shaking, most of them still catching their breath, they crawled back towards Benjamin. He nodded down at them and looked like he was going to attempt moving when Rachel and Jordan reminded them that Grizabella was on the move.

Blue and Georgina were lucky enough to be able to sidle off the nearest ramp, not needed in this scene, getting to their feet as soon as they were out of the line of sight of the audience.

Unfastening the top of her unitard, Blue peeled it down off her arms and tied the arms around her chest, as they climbed the stairs, neither of them having the breath or moisture in their mouths that they needed to talk.

Stumbling into the social area, Andy had somehow beaten them up again and was sprawled on a couch again, a hefty ice pack pressed to his shoulder, his unitard pulled down to his waist. Georgina eyed his muscled chest with clear interest.

"You okay, Andy?" Sitting down on the arm of the chair opposite him, Blue peered down at him. He opened his mismatched eyes and exhaled a breath. He lifted the ice pack away, revealing a fresh, almost-black bruise spread over his shoulder. "Ow! When did that happen?"

He sat up and replaced the pack again. "When I had to hoist our Kashka." He grimaced. "I don't care what she says. She is NOT eight stone." He looked at the bruise again. "She lifted herself the wrong way and I slipped. Managed to make it look like I was kneeling to put her down, but smacked my shoulder on the bumper of the car."

"Don't blame me if you don't know how to do a lift." Kashka stalked passed, shooting a glare at him. Disappearing away down the long hallway and into her dressing room, the door slammed sharply.

Andy pulled a face at the door. "Don't blame me if you don't know how to jump into a lift, you stupid cow." He minced in an almost-perfect mimic of the actress' voice. Standing, he crossed to the shelves and grabbed a tube of some kind of salve, spreading it over the bruise. He looked at the sniggering kittens. "What?"

"You sounded just like her." Georgina chuckled. "Be back...need a piddle..." She wandered away, leaving Blue and Andy by the couch. 

Sitting down on one of the chairs next to Blue, Andy snagged his drink and glanced at the smaller dancer. "I hung around long enough to see you doing your flip thing...looking good." She ducked her head over her drink with a shy grin. "Oh not again, shorty. You're not shy, so why do you act it around me."

"To confuse you?" She suggested, looking over at the door as Tommy, Raymond and Malcolm entered, all talking loudly and enthusiastically. Apparently both Misto and Bomba had had their nicotine fixes and were feeling better for it. Joining the pair at the chairs, they took the sofa across the table. Raymond gave Andy a sympathetic look. "So you got stuck with the Super bitch, huh?" He shook his head with a grimace. "I'm amazed you didn't break somethin', hon." He patted the thigh of Tommy who was seated next to him. "I had Gorgeous here, the perfect partner."

"Thanks, sweetie." Tommy leaned over and kissed him fondly on the lips, her hand moving absently on Malcolm's chest. He was lying in the last space on the couch, his legs dangling over the end, his head in Tommy's lap. "Lemme guess..." She cleared her throat. "'It's not my fault you can't do lifts'...anywhere close?"

Andy chuckled, fingering the bruise. "Almost exactly." He replied bitterly. He flexed his arm, moving it gingerly. "I should be able to manage the fight, as long as the bitch doesn't get in my way again."

"Me-ow! Do I sense an impending cat fight?" Malcolm opened one eye and grinned.

"If she didn't stomp off to her dresing room every time, I would take her on, but I thing her tongue's a bit to sharp for my liking." He glared in the direction of the actress' door, rolling his shoulder slowly. "She hates me. I hate her. Its as fun as that."

Blue tentatively asked. "Why?"

Andy's eyes danced with mischief. "You really wanna know?" Tommy looked like she had a suspicion, but said nothing. Blue nodded. "Kashka has this delusion of being Grizabella. She manages Dem cos she's such a schitzo anyway, but when she asked to be the understudy, the casting guys said no...basically," He grinned, his head lolling back against the back of the chair. "They said I made a better Griz than she would."

"God help us if you even had to be Munk to her Dem." A pained look crossed Malcolm's face, his eyes closing again. "You'd probably let Mac take her and settle down with...I dunno...not Bomba, that's for sure...she's be snuggling with Griz..."

"Even a drag Queen Grizzie?" Andy batted his eyes.

Raymond chuckled. "Whatcha think, hon?" He murmured to Tommy conspiratorially. "Looks good as a guy...probably looks just as good as a gal..."

"No chance, Andy." She shrugged. "Sorry, mate. You just have to many attachments. I like my partners like I like my hoovers - no nozzles." She laid her head on Raymond's shoulder and smirked at him. "But I see a kitten who was worrying about you something awful." Her eyes drifted to Blue, who was staring at the tumbler in her hands. "Weren't ya, kid?"

"Shut up, Tommy."

"C'mon, kid, you were freaking out."

Blue lifted her head and stared at Tommy. "I said shut it." She repeated coldly, getting to her feet and swinging over the back of the chair.

"Whoa, check out the Mini-Ice Queen." Malcolm sat up to follow the smaller dancer's rapid walk across the room. She disappeared out through the door and he turned to Tommy. "Are you going to tell us what's going on, Tom?"

Tommy, too, was staring in the direction that Blue had gone. "Well, I'll be..." She whispered, shaking her head. Lifting Malcolm's head off her lap, she stood and gestured for Raymond to scoot along and take her place. "Scuse me."

She hurried away after Blue and left Malcolm lying with his head in Raymond's lap. "What the hell just happened?" Andy inquired, leaning forward to watch Tommy's retreating back with clear confusion.

"Dunno, but I'm going to enjoy the rest of my break." Malcolm smiled lazily up at the black and white face of Raymond, who returned the smile.

Andy groaned. "Oh gimme a break..."

***

"Sulking, are you?"

"Leave me alone."

Sitting down on the top step next to Blue, Tommy looked down at the smaller dancer. "I didn't think I was right, kid." She said quietly, looking at the dirty white of the walls. "I was just trying to tease you...guess I messed that up, didn't I?"

Blue edged a bit closer and laid her head against Tommy's shoulder. "Sorry." The older woman put her arm around the younger's shoulders and gave her a fond squeeze. "I must have looked stupid."

"No more than usual, kiddo." Turning Blue's face towards her, she dropped a kiss on the freckle-spotted nose. "Have I mentioned how adorable you look in that kinky kitten get-up?"

Blue cocked a brow. "No." Tommy looked confused. "No threesomes."

"Drat! You remembered."

"Ahem." Both of them looked up in unison to see Kashka standing over them. "If you don't mind, I would actually like to get back to the stage at some point today, if you don't mind taking your make-out session elsewhere." She pushed passed them and Tommy reached out to nip her buttock. Blue caught the red-garbed actress' wrist and shook her head. Tommy looked disppointed, glaring after the older woman.

She got to her feet just as the door opened again. Jordan and Antoine both emerged and peered down the stairs beyond them. "Is the Wicked Witch of the West End gone yet?" Antoine asked hopefully.

"Just." Tommy replied sourly. Her dark eyes narrowed to slits. "I'm so going to have to show that bitch that she shouldn't piss me off."

Blue's eyes lit up. "I have an idea, Tommy." She murmured, the smirk that crossed her lips almost as devious as that which Tommy, herself, sometimes used. "It would probably freak her out enough to make her want to avoid you..."

"You know, kid, I taught you well." Tommy chuckled. "You gonna tell us what this wonderful idea is?"

"Well..."Blue glanced down the stairs again. "How far are you willing to go to really – and I mean REALLY – freak out and piss off our beloved Snow Queen?"

Tommy eyed the dancer. "Why am I not liking the sound of this so much?"

"Cos you know me." Rising on her toes, Blue whispered the idea she had to Tommy. The exotic-looking dancer's eyes widened and a broad grin rapidly spread onto her face. They started down the stairs together and Blue grinned. "So, what do you think?"

Tommy laughed. "I love the way you think, kid. That's what I think."

"So whats the idea?" Antoine asked from behind them.

"You're just going to have to wait and see, straight after the show, Tony." Tommy smirked, stepping aside to let Jordan pass. He grinned at her, then ducked behind the props to try and find Rachel, having misplaced her during the intermission.

Antoine shot a mock-dirty look at her, but couldn't help grinning. "I'll be right there waiting, Tommy-lady. It better be good." He promised, patting her arm, before darting away through another door to head for the upper ledges.

"Think he'll be disappointed?" Tommy inquired, grinning.

Blue chuckled. "Nah."

***

As the cast made their way on to the stage for the Moments of Happiness, both Jordan and Rachel were timing how long it took for this night's audience to become aware of them. Since they were the first on, it was up to them to time it, to let the crew upstairs who had won the bets that were frequently placed.

The Jonson twins crept to the right side of the car, lying along the junk there, but at a good angle to pull faces at the three female kittens across the stage. Rhiannon was sitting in the middle of the stage with Jordan and Rachel.

Blue was sitting on the tyre with Jenni and Georgina, while Gil Howard – Victor – and Malcolm settled on the mattress beneath them, leaving themselves as open targets to the three girls sitting on the tyre. 

Benjamin was making the most of the one song he had and was singing with great gusto, trying to ignore the three girls sitting next to him. Despite the instructions that they had to behave for this song, if no other, Jenni's mischievous Rumpleteaser was gnawing enthusiastically on Mistoffelees' tail.

It was with great relief that Benjamin finished the song, as John Marquez tottered forward in his Gus regalia. The thirty-one year old's dancing career had been cut short by injury, but he relished the multi-role of Gus, Bustopher and Growltiger.

The triad of kittens started listening to the song, but rapidly got bored. Mistoffelees and Victor provided two very interesting tails to play with despite Old Deuteronomy's adamant looks that told them to behave properly and listen.

John played up into the role, fawning over Jellylorum, played by Miranda Clyde-Dunlop. She soothingly patted him, helping to his feet and helping him sit when needed. Their voices were perfect foils for each other and as she carried the bucket off the stage, she glanced back at him with a fond look.

He returned the look with a little wave and blew a kiss at her. Jellylorum chuckled, feigning a swoon, before continuing on her way down the ramp. Gus, however, went on to clear the stage with a miserable attempt at a caterwaul before the 'magical' transformation into Growltiger.

"Bloody zips stuck!" Andy was spinning in circles, trying to get the zip of his Siamese costume up. He tried to peer over his shoulder and almost slammed into Miranda, who was hurrying to get up to the higher levels for her appearance as Griddlebone. "Sorry Randa!"

"No worry, sweets." She called back with a toss of her tail.

Someone caught Andy's zip and tugged it up for him. A sultry voice murmured softly in his ear. "What I wouldn't give for a hottie like that." It didn't take a genius to work out who was standing at his side.

"Bomb fancying Griddlebone...there's an interesting pussy story." "Pussy being di opelative word." Jordan drawled in his Genghis accent, wandering past, trying to straighten his mask. His sword was tucked under his arm and he hopped onto the ladder to ascend the set. "Places, boys and girls."

The veritable Siamese army scattered throughout the backstage area, each heading for their positions. On stage, Griddlebone's entrance had just been announced by her terrifyingly high opening aria. Genghis peeped down at his two closest Siamese warriors, over the edge of the ledge he was standing on. Raymond and Joely - Cassandra - grinned back at him, both wielding pitchforks and eyeing his unprotected rear speculatively.

"Don't. Even. Think. About. It." He mouthed down at them, then peered over the edge of the set onto the stage with the first mention of the Siamese, before ducking down with a yelp as a prong of a fork poked him firmly on the rear. "Hey!"

Both Raymond and Joely stared back at him, expressions completely innocent. Jordan groaned and turned his attention back to that which was going on on stage. Below and behind them, the pirates were hurriedly getting out of their pirate costumes. Apparently Malcolm and his had had some kind of minor disagreement. He and Antoine were struggling with the bulky sleeves, Antoine's own costume down around his ankles.

Chuckling, Jordan launched himself over the set, followed by the fleet of Siamese. He and John loved the sword fight. During their first rehearsals, many months before, they had both discovered the other was a Star Wars buff. Needless to say, the dance captain was hard pressed to maintain a straight face when, in full dress rehearsal, Genghis and Growltiger both added lightsaber sound effects during their battle.

The highest point had to be when Genghis fell and Growltiger bellowed deafeningly. "Genghis! I am your father!" Both of them had cracked up completely, as well as the majority of the cast and orchestra. During the warm ups the next day, before their first show, the orchestra had tuned up and warmed up too...by playing the Star Wars theme, leaving the two clutching each other and laughing hysterically.

With practised ease they fell into the battle, so familiar that they could still managed to make it look improvised with every swipe of the sword and every yell and step. All too soon, it was over and John had swan-dived off the pipe at the back of the stage.

As – back in Gus form – the actor tottered back on, Jordan delicately dipped and spun, a shadowy form at the front of the stage. Halting in front of John, he bowed deeply, then turned and walked swiftly off-stage, ready to get into the Henchcat costume. He spotted Antoine scrambling hastily up onto his spot on the ledge beside the top of the car, straightening his waist coat and the little bell at his throat. Hurrying through to the green room to get out of the Genghis costume, he found Malcolm sitting in his Henchcat costume, bitterly cursing at the pirate costume.

Andy was close to the mirror, carefully changing his make-up into that of Macavity. He was half-in, half-out of his Admetus unitard, his wig sitting on a chair beside him. Whistling merrily, he glanced over at Jordan and grinned, before turning back to his make-up.

"Bad fastener?" Jordan asked Malcolm.

"Just a little." Malcolm scowled at the costume, where it lay. "Wardrobe had to cut me out of it. The catch snapped inside the fabric or something."

"Bad luck." Jordan clucked in sympathy, shrugging quickly out of the Siamese costume and quickly pulling the Henchcat costume on. Snatching up the black head, he cocked his head at the younger actor. "You enjoying yourself?"

Malcolm nodded. "Tiring, but fun."

"Boys, boys!" Andy spun around, batting his lashes. "Tell me...how do I look?" The red spread of his Admetus make-up had extended to obscure the white of his cheeks, several black and white stripes flecked in from his jawline. Two stupidly large fangs protruded from his lower lips, vividly white against the red and black of his chin.

Jordan gave a thumbs-up. "Looking scary, Andy."

"I thought that was his normal look." Malcolm muttered, sotto voce. Andy stuck his tongue out and started to pull the wig carefully into place. Fluffing it, he turned his attention to his Macavity unitard, bending to pull his feet into it, receiving a wolf-whistle from one of the two Henchcats behind him. 

He eyed them over his shoulder. "Do you two mind!?!? Super-villain trying to get a bit of privacy here!" Pulling the damp Admetus unitard back up over his shoulder, he pulled the Macavity one on over it. "Ick! I forgot how much this thing itches." "That's what you get for being a smart arse multi-player." Andy made a polite, single-fingered gesture in Jordan's direction. The older actor carefully ignored it. "You coming?"

"S'pose so." Andy sighed, fluffing his wig once more for emphasis. "Got to go and snatch the big furball." He paused, to look at the other two. "You know, I bet Old D paid Mac to snatch him, so he could get his lardy rear off the tyre for once."

Malcolm chuckled, shaking his head, and Jordan smacked Andy across the head lightly, unable to hide a grin. "You think to much, Mac." He remarked. "Do the thinking thing after we've done our bit and got old fuzzy-bum." "Yessir, mister Henchcat, Sir. Just boss the boss around."

***

On stage, Antoine had been bouncing all over the stage as a totally crazy Skimbleshanks, until the ominous crash that predicted the imminent arrival of the over-decorated Andy and his two little minions.

Andy barelled onto the car, throwing his head back in his best appropriation of what was a maniac's laugh. Malcolm and Jordan scrambled over the tyre, Malcolm catching his foot and almost tripping over the front. Catching his balance, he was forced into a somersault, landing neatly on his feet on the stage, receiving a surprised look from Robbie.

As Benjamin was hauled away towards the font of the stage, Andy and the two henchcats disappeared back towards the green room, leaving only Kashka and Tommy on the stage, extolling the virtues of the Mystery Cat. Although the dance rountine had often been reputed to be sexy, Tommy took the word and gave it a whole new - and altogether more provocative - meaning, her expression smouldering as she made full use of her sensual body. Despite the edge of bitterness between she and Kashka, the two actresses put aside their differences, to all intents and purposes giving a seamless performance, Bombalurina and Demeter closer than ever.

Behind the scenes, though, things were a little different.

Beneath the fake Deuteronomy coat, Andy was pacing slowly back and forth across the floor of the green room, stretching his bruised shoulder in preparation for the coming fight. Robbie appeared from the wings, eyeing him with apparent concern. "You okay?"

"Shoulders a bit sore." He admitted with a grimace.

"Think you can manage the lifts?"

Andy forced a grin. "Well, as long as you're not Kashka, I think I can manage just fine." He replied, glancing towards the door. "Just go a bit easier on the hits, okay? I'd hate to have to bitch about you as well."

"I'll try." The tabby grinned at him, then disappeared out of the door. Andy sighed, scratching at his aching shoulder once more, then made his way out into the passages for his grand entrance through the auditorium.

Picking his way up the stairs, he spotted Norman in disguise as Macavity up on the tyre and blew out a swift breath. As long as he got through this fight and had an ice pack waiting, he would be fine.

Approaching the stage, the kittens were the first to welcome him back. Patting Blue on the head, he received a broad grin, until Kashka swung away from Tommy and hissed. He almost smirked. It was quite appropriate, he mused, that she sounded demented.

The impact of her on his back made him stagger, her grip making him want to yell as her fingers dug into his bruised shoulder. Spinning, he was even more determined to throw her off than he would usually have been.

The coat torn away, he threw back his upper body, baring his teeth. If there was one thing he loved about this role, it was getting to be as insane as he liked. And, also on the plus side, he got to throw Kashka around. That was always fun.

Sliding to the front of the stage on his knees, he spun up to throw Munkustrap away from Demeter, his body weight shifting as he swung the startled Kashka up, over his shoulder. The fight she put up was most certainly more violent than it had to be.

Robbie caught her ankles and the actress became a tug-of-war rope between them, until Raymond ducked underneath her. Carrying her off, Raymond pulled a revolted face at Andy as he passed, his face masked from the audience by Kashka.

The fight proceeded with considerably more care than there usually was. Each lift was beginning to show its strain on Andy, but he forced hismelf to get through, even though he was getting visibly paler beneath his make-up, by the time he threw Robbie aside and ran up towards the car.

With his light show blinding the audience momentarily, he scrambled along the ledge beside him and disappeared down behind the set, slumping heavily against the wall. His shoulder was throbbing painfully, suggesting it was probably more than a simple bruise.

"You okay?" Norman hissed, halfway up the footholds to his ledge above the car. Andy nodded, making his way back towards the green room. Norman shrugged, stretching out on the car and awaiting his big moment.

He glanced ceiling-wards and saw the unmistakable white patch of the Mistoffelees costume, as Malcolm got himself wired up for the drop. "You oughta ask the magical Mister Mistoffelees..." He drawled, the spotlight swinging towards him. "The original conjuring cat."

***

Struggling out of the Macavity unitard, the wig already lying - like some kind of demonic toilet brush - on the desk, Andy managed to haul it off and threw it over the back of the nearest chair, reaching for the make-up.

Hastily wiping off some of the black and red, he reapplied a quick coat of white over the centre of his face, blurring it carefully in with the dark reddish colour around his jawline and up the edges of his cheeks.

In a matter of minutes, he was Admetus once again and replaced his wig carefully, sealing it back in place. Taking a quick drink of water from the table, he made his way out of the door - unseen - and edged up on the side of the stage in time to see the tail end of the Conjuring Turn.

Sprawling down on the mattress beside Coricopat and Tantomile, he laid his chin on his extended arms. Rachel reached over and touched his back gently receiving a faint smile from him for her efforts.

All three looked up as Malcolm pirouetted towards them and pointed directly at Cassandra, who was sitting on the tyre, trying to ignore the proceedings. As Joely leapt to her feet and tried to make a fleeting escape in as glamourous a way as possible, the three on the mattress cut her off with their arms.

Glaring at Mistoffelees, she allowed herself to be herded under the red blanket, receiving a dainty kick on the rear from one or both of the Jonson twins. Flicking the finger at them, she let Benjamin crawl out of the pipe as she slid down beneath the sheet of crimson. 

She crept quickly into the pipe and she was sure she heard one of them giggle, shaking her head with a faint smile as she slid easily out the other end of the pipe and wove around various understage crew to head for the stairs into the auditorium, where Malcolm would retrieve her.

Slinking out, she watched unnoticed as Norman gestured to Malcolm and Benjamin suddenly found himself with an armful of skinny goth Mistoffelees. Nuzzling the top of Deuteronomy's head, Malcolm hopped down lightly and cartwheeled to the edge of the stage, curling his hand in a beckoning gesture.

Joely smiled, twirling into his arms, as they glided across the stage. He was the tallest Mistoffelees she had worked with, which was always a plus, when she had to twirl under his arms for this part of their routine. 

As the Ensemble joined in the routine, Malcolm's showman streak came to the fore, a series of elaborate pirouettes and gymnastics leading up to he moment when he somersaulted off the tyre and was hoisted on the shoulders and hands of Andy, Raymond and Robbie.

His eyes widened in surprise and he glanced down to receive a grin from Raymond, the black dancer's large hand playfully squeezing his rear again. His grin widened a little and he blew the spotlight out a moment before Rhiannon started to sing.

Andy found himself beside Blue again. Leaning against the oven beside her, he gave her a light nudge and smiled. The tip of her nose went pink beneath the make-up and she ducked her head, suddenly shy once again.

Draping an arm around her, he couldn't hide a smile as she shuffled a little closer to him and rubbed her wig under his chin. Biting down on her furry ear, they both moved forward and stretched their arms out to Old Deuteronomy. 

As Helen came on, they returned to their spot beside the oven, Admetus' arms wrapped protectively around Etcetera, to save her from the nasty, smelly, old queen. Crouched against the oven, neither of them noticed a certain red cat cast a speculative look in their direction.

Ignoring Grizabella, Andy felt the small dancer in his arms relax with a low sigh. Seated between his knees, his right leg upraised, she leaned forward and rested her chin on top of her hands on his knee to look out at the audience and Grizabella.

Tracing one hand down her back, he felt her eyes flick to him and smiled, letting his hand retrace its path several times. Blue sighed again, arching against his hand, her eyes settling on Helen as she sang.

When the older actress-cum-singer fell to her knees, every person on the stage jolted forward in the crescendo, reaching out to the fallen queen, until Rhiannon's piercing voice broke through and lifted Grizabella back up.

Andy's smile spread across his face as Blue sank back down and laid her head against his chest, clawing at the warmers on his arms, as they waited for the sign that Grizabella was accepted and that it was almost time for the flying tyre.

Finally - all white and glowing - Cassie rose from her spot beside Benjamin and gracefully crossed the distance between her and Helen, looking at her own hand for a long moment, before placing it softly in Helen's.

Side-by-side with Andy, Blue rose and they touched the grey form of Helen, then sang along with the rest as Deuteronomy and Grizabella ascended the tyre. Dry ice flooded out from the machine beneath the stage and Etcetera went into the raptures as the tyre started to rise.

On her knees, Blue skidded around on the stage, spinning in wild circles, trying to catch the dry ice with her hands. Finally, Andy caught her around the waist and swung her up onto her feet, exchanging a nuzzle, before she spun away for the Readdressing of Cats.

Someone clearing their throat caught Andy's attention from a little further across the stage and he glanced around to find Tommy grinning at him. She nodded in the bouncing Blue's direction and winked, before returning to her aloof pose.

Trying to keep his attention on the foods being mentioned, Andy couldn't help wondering what the red-garbed dancer's wink had meant. He looked over at Blue and she ducked her head with a shy smile. Surely Tommy wasn't trying to pair them...

As the finale's music boomed out through the speakers around the theatre, the cast scattered as the tyre started to descend, spreading through the audience to await each of their turns to take their bows.

It was no surprise that Robbie got one of the loudest cheers, as he ran on. Tommy came pretty close, running on and doing a Marilyn-Munroe-styled pout and blew a kiss. Norman moonwalked on, whirling his tail and grinning. He received an annoyed swat from Bombalurina for stealing her thunder.

The Jonson twins danced on from opposite sides of the stage, as if oblivious to each other until they collided in the centre of the stage. Both of them somersaulted backwards onto their feet, before looping their arms through each others and bowing.

Andy raced on after Kashka, receiving a dirty look from the actress, but ignoring it as he joined the growing number at the back of the stage. To his surprise, he noticed that Blue hadn't come on stage yet. He had no idea about the bowing order now, except for his places, having not been briefed on the female characters.

Old Deuteronomy and Grizabella were lining up at the middle, when he became aware of a small figure bobbing up and down on the mattress at the side of the stage. Blue's eyes were fixed straight ahead and she launched herself forward.

Rotating into a backflip, she flipped herself rapidly three times and went into a hand-spring, landing on her feet barely inches from the front of the stage. Even a few of the cast were applauding her, as she bowed and ran back to join them, throwing her arms around Benjamin.

***

"Where in the flipping heck did that come from?" Andy demanded as they ascended the stairs to the dressing rooms. He was accompanied by Blue, Tommy, Antoine, Malcolm and Raymond, but he was talking at the shortest of their number. "It was like boing-boing-boing-boing-wheeeeeeeeee-boing-tada!"

Blue shrugged with a faint grin. "Dunno."

"Oooh!" They had stopped at the top of the stairs. Straight ahead of them, Kashka was standing at the counter, waiting impatiently for a drink. Tommy looked down at Blue, who flashed an even wider grin up at her.

"Wait here boys and girls." She murmured, strutting away from them. 

Antoine bent closer to Blue. "What's she up to?"

"Just watch."

Tommy stopped right next to Kashka, who had her wig clenched in one hand, her drink in the other. The older actress cast a sour look at Tommy, as if there were a million places she would rather be. "Tommy."

"Just wanted to thank you for making my first show back here so memorable." Tommy laid a hand on Kashka's shoulder. Kashka's face registered surprise and she turned to look at Tommy, only for the younger actress to grab her and firmly kiss her on the lips.

The four gathered beside Blue at the door gaped in astonishment. Kashka threw herself backwards with enough force to land on her rear, staring with disgust up at Tommy, who 

grinned and licked her lips.

Muttering profanities under her breath, Kashka stumbled to her feet and backed away hurriedly, disappearing down towards her dressing room much faster than she usually did, still mumbling darkly.

"Whoa, girlfriend!" Raymond carefully approached. "What was that about?"

"Ask Shorty." Tommy nodded at Blue, who was leaning against Antoine, giggling insanely and nodding. "It was her suggestion and I'll be...I think it worked!" A wide, wicked grin curved her lips upwards. "I don't think Kashka's had the thrill of being snogged for a long time."

Andy and Antoine both looked nauseous. "You tongued her?" Andy pulled a face. "Yuck!"

"Is this because she's a woman?"

"No, its because she's...well...her." Antoine replied for his friend. He pulled a similar face. "I mean, you just snogged Kashka..."

Tommy grinned. "I snogged her, but she most definitely didn't snog me." Beckoning Raymond, she reached up and pressed her lips to his. His arms went around her waist and held her against him. Breaking the kiss, panting, she turned to the observers. "That, children, is how you can tell if someone is snogging me back."

"You old tart." Jonny chuckled, squeezing passed Blue and Antoine. "What would Sylvie say if she knew you were all over our boy here?"

Tommy chuckled. "She would have me checked into an asylum for people with multiple personality disorder." One arm around Raymond's waist, she squeezed his rear and got a wide grin from him. "C'mon, baby, let's go get changed."

As they separated to head to their seperate dressing rooms, Andy caught Blue and pulled her aside for a moment. "Blue, kiddo, are we okay?"

"Huh?"

"Well, all the other guys...you don't seem to have any problem with touching them and talking to them. You're always crazy around them, but with me, you're little Miss Shy and Quiet...is it me or something?"

Blue lowered her head. "Um...sort of..." She looked up at him guiltily. "Sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about, kiddo. I just needed to know for sure." Opening his arms, he felt a small surge of relief when she stepped into a hug, albeit a brief one. "You know something...you're all soggy."

Blue nodded. "You too."

He bent and brushed the front of his wig to hers. "You go and get changed, kiddo." He said softly, starting with surprise when her pale blue eyes met his for the first time. She nodded, then darted away into the room she shared with Tommy, Georgina and Helen.

Straightening up, he couldn't help laughing when he heard her voice shriek from the small dressing room.

"Eeh, Helen, man! Don't switch the computer off! I wanna check me e-mail!"


	3. The Cast - Part 3 - Gotta Love that Swin...

It was almost exactly a month to the day since the last cast changeover. In the Tugger regalia of the absent Norman, Andy was standing on the half-pipe beside the tyre, his thumbs stuck into his spangly belt.

Singing his verse of 'Old Deuteronomy' with Robbie, his eyes flicked to one of the kitten's on the stage and a cocky half-grin edged onto his lips. A look of complete panic crossed Blue's face. If anything, he mused, she would learn not to make bets with the only man to ever audition for Grizabella.

Her eyes still half-lingering on him, she hesitantly turned, allowing Georgina to pull her along to greet Benjamin. Andy couldn't help smirking when she glanced at him, smoothing his mane with one hand.

Apparently no one else had noticed Etcetera's hyperventilating.

Struggling up the ramp, weighed down by his coat, Benjamin smiled widely around at his 'tribe', then turned towards Andy, expecting the familiar bow or salute.

He was, however, a little surprised by the squeal of 'daddy!'. Even more so, when all six foot plus of Tugger landed inelegantly in his arms. Andy batted his eyelashes and planted a firm kiss on the older actor's nose.

Despite this – and the choked laughter of many of the cast members – the song was finished without further ado. Although, if it had been audible, the mumbled swearing of Etcetera would have been enough to turn the air as blue as her hair. 

Sliding to the edge of the stage, Blue smacked Andy on the leg as he strutted past her, during 'The Pekes and The Pollicles', grinning widely at her. Georgina nudged her, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"The bugger did it." Blue hissed, scowling behind her Peke mask.

Aware that there was probably a long story behind both the Tugger-Deuteronomy thing and Blue's agitation, Georgina seemed to decide it would be wiser to wait until the Intermission for an explanation.

And to hold Blue back, in case she went for Andy in a none-to-pleasant way.

For the remainder of the first act, though, Blue contented herself with either glaring bitterly at the figure of Tugger, or dancing like there was no tomorrow. The Jellicle Ball passed in a blur, the smallest dancer of the cast speeding off-stage as soon as she could.

Following the sound of the stage manager's voice yelling at someone, Blue was jerked to a halt when a hand snagged her tail. "What was that about, little sister?" Tommy asked, not relinquishing her hold.

"Enough to say I'm going to kill him." The tiny girl spat, jerking her tail free.

Chuckling, the taller dancer patted Blue's wig with clear amusement. "Never make bets with our swing-man." She advised, turning and sauntering off to get herself a cigarette and something to drink, the confused Blue staring in her wake.

"Got time to spill, Blue?" Mungojerrie's face popped into her line of vision, as she started on her way down the hall towards the spot where the stage manager was apparently lecturing the tall figure of Andy as Tugger. "What's Andy done to get you so pissed off?"

"You saw." He could see the uneasiness in her pale eyes. It was almost a fearful apprehension, an expression he really didn't like to see on her elfin face. She stopped out of arm's reach of Andy, as the stage manager stalked away, his expression dark.

A watery grin on his face, Andy turned to the pair nearby. "Um, apparently that little surprise didn't go down too well." He looked down at Blue, who was staring at the floor, her hands folded behind her. "Shorty?"

"You won." Her voice was a monotone, head down. "Name a time and place."

Andy squatted to look up at her bowed face. "Don't need to sound so enthusiastic, short stuff." He frowned as she turned her eyes away from his face. "If you wanna make it easier, why don't you choose where and we take other people with us?"

"I'll go." Jonny offered, swigging some water from a bottle. "Dunno what the hells going on, but I'll bring Monique. Its been a while since you've seen her, eh, Blue? She's dying to see you again…has been since I mentioned the new colouring."

The petite dancer looked over at him. "A double-date it is then." Jonny visibly jolted in surprise. Andy had managed to get her to go out with him? Andy rose, Blue's face slowly lifting to look at him. "You're going to love Monique." Her faint smile was hidden as she swallowed some water from Jonny's bottle.

"And Monique is…?"

"My girl." Blue snorted and Jonny tried his best to look hurt. "Hey, even Tommy thought Ramon was a femme fatale when she met him in his Monique get-up." He chuckled. "Poor Tommy…flirting with a five-star drag Princess." He threw up his hands in a wicked imitation of Tommy. "'Eeeew! I touched him! And he had bits! Ewww! I hate you Jonny!' – Funniest thing I ever saw."

Andy waved his hands frantically, to get their attention. "Whoa! Whoa! Let me get this straight! I finally convince shorty to go out with me and I end up hooking up with a fellow pussy and his drag-Princess? Can this get any freakier?"

"Well," Blue couldn't hide a faintly smug smile. "Moni is as tall as you and she's my sidekick for laser-questing…and guess where we're going to go." Andy's face fell. "Plus you made a tit of yourself on stage."

Slapping him smartly on the rump, she bounced off the find Georgina, looking reassured by what Andy had suggested. "It was worth it, shorty." He murmured to himself, smiling slightly. "Definitely worth it."

***

"And you are actually going?" Both Tommy and Georgina were staring at Blue as if she were crazy.

Sitting in the dressing room, pulling her sock on, the smallest of the trio looked from one face to the other. "Um…Jonny said he'd bring Moni and they'd both go along with me." She mumbled, bending over her foot.

"But its Andy!" Georgina protested, shaking her head. "You know…Mister Only-Cast-member-I'm-afraid-of?"

"I'm not afraid of him." Pale blue eyes rose, a faint smile crossing Blue's lips. Tommy raised a sceptical eyebrow. The younger dancer lowered her head again, fiddling with her bootlace. "Um…not much…"

Tommy rounded the make-up desk and wrapped her arms around Blue from behind with a sigh. "You're a nut case, sweetie." She pressed her cheek against the younger girl's temple. "Are you sure about this?"

"Jonny's going to be with me." She raised her eyes to her friend and roommate with a tired smile. "I'm going to show Andy just how stupid he was to challenge me. I'll be okay with both of them and Moni there."

The oriental-looking woman smiled slightly. "So you're testing the poor guy by throwing everything you can at him?"

"I thought that letting him meet Moni was being gentle!" Blue protested with mock-innocence, squeezing Tommy's forearms and rubbing her head against the older dancer's jaw with a half-smile.

"Uh huh. That poor boy isn't going to know which way is left or right at the rate you're going, Blue." Georgina fastened up her belt of her jeans, shaking her head. "Moni'll be all over him like a rash."

The smallest of the trio chuckled. "Why do you think I'm letting her come?"

Tommy burst out laughing. "I love the way you think, kid!" She chuckled, kissing Blue on the brow. "Never change it, okay?"

"Only learned from the best, Tommy." Blue grinned, hugging her friend back. "Now, what do you think I should wear – jeans…or jeans?"

***

Manipulating his way over, under, around and between the many obstacles that littered his stepbrother's hallway, Andy wrestled his way towards the door. Several dusty skis clattered over, taking a small crate of books with them.

Looking around the hall sheepishly, Andy couldn't help laughing. It didn't look the least bit different.

If anyone ever asked him how he kept in shape, he mused, he could honestly tell them that it was the daily exiting and entering the flat. Even the army couldn't come up with an assault course to rival the narrow, junk-littered hallway.

"Andy! Move your bloody 'arris! We're double-parked!"

Navigating the door open six inches, he started to wriggle his way between the door and the frame, almost falling on top of the Jonny. "Ow…sorry…" He glanced around, raising a brow, tugging a booted foot through the gap. "Um…where's shorty?"

"At the car with Moni." Jonny grinned, clearly looking forward to introducing his partner to his unwitting workmate. "You got everything? Loads of cash?" Andy's brow rose a millimetre higher. "Hey, you…er…I mean we have a duty to spoil the ladies."

"If you say so, Jonny-boy." Closing the door behind him, Andy didn't bother locking it behind him. "So, lead on, McDuff." The shorter dancer happily bounced down the lobby and out to the roadside, where his beat-up mini waited. "Th-that's Monique?"

A stunning brunette was sitting glamorously on the low bonnet, long legs clad in tight-fitting jeans. Lustrous waves of dark hair fell to a slender waist, an F.C.U.K. t-shirt with the words 'Fondle Constantly Until Knackered' scrawled across the chest. A perfectly made-up face turned to them.

"Hello."

"Andy, Moni," Jonny was grinning mischievously. "Moni, Andy."

Monique slid gracefully to her feet, offering a manicured hand to the gob-smacked dancer. "Nice to finally meet you." Andy shook the outstretched hand and managed to nod. "Little Blue told me about your bet."

"She should have known better." Jonny slid his arm around Monique's waist, barely reaching her shoulder in height. "Blue stuck her tongue out. "He's the guy who auditioned for Griz, Blue. You shoulda known he'd do anything."

"A drag artist?" Moniue drawled. "A man after my own heart!"

"I did it cos I knew it would have a good result."

"And I didn't think he was that desperate for a date." Blue added, staring resolutely at the car. "Can we go already? I wanna kick some bahonky."

***

"Where the heck did you spring from?" Hands raised, Andy could feel the tip of his date's blaster pressing hard against the sensor panel on his back.

There was a merry laugh. "I was here all the time, big guy." Came her cryptic reply. "So, are you actually gonna get into this any time soon and leave with some semblance of dignity or are we just gonna make sure your name is at the top of the highest number of hits board?"

"What difference does it make? I never come here anyway!"

"You don't." He could visualise the wicked grin on her face. "But the rest of the cast all do." A pause. "Well, except Kashka..."

He groaned. "What do I have to do?"

"Play!" She slapped his rear, his sensor on his pack squealing, then she was gone. He spun, but the tiny, blue-haired dancer had disappeared among the mad, multi-level labyrinth of metal and grids. He could still hear her laughter.

His sensor registered another hit and a squeal of giggles not unlike that of Rumpleteaser rang loud and clear over the whoops and shrills of the panels.

"You asked for it, tiny!" Diving behind the nearest of the oblong obstacles, he peered around and saw no one. His sensor wailed again. He couldn't have been hit! He was sheltered on all sides, so how...?

A shrill whistle sounded from the metal footwalk five feet above his head. Blue waved cockily, then darted off along the path and into the maze of the upper levels. A devilish look came into Andy's eyes and he raced for the metal staircase to follow. Reaching the top unscathed, he laughed loudly.

"All right! I'm gonna get..."

Beepbeepbeep!

"Ah, crud!"

The laughter of Blue, Jonny and Monique reached him and he mentally whapped himself across the head for being so stupid and running into a trap. It wasn't as if it was the first time they had pulled this stunt since they arrived.

"How did you all get to be in the same team?" He wailed plaintively, ducking behind one of the nearest steel barriers.

"Bribed the doorman." Jonny's yell reached him a second before a blue-haired blur sped past him, firing rapidly, followed by a laughing brunette. His sensor went wild and he groaned again, sinking down out of range.

"That wasn't fair!"

Monique's head poked around the barrier. "Aww! The cutie-pie can't take it! Welcome to the world of Blue and Moni and the lazer guns, wuss!"

Andy half-snarled in annoyance and barreled towards her, with a howl of "Kamikaze!", only for his back sensor to come under attack from Blue and Jonny, leaving him beeping and wailing in a heap on the floor.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaargh!" Breaking into a sprint, he fled, three racing after him in laughing pursuit, brandishing their weapons to uncannily accurate effect.

***

"Admit it." Tugger looked down at Etcetera.

"Admit what?"

"That you had fun."

He glared at her. "I would rather swallow rusty nails."

"Liar." She smirked wickedly up at him. "You enjoyed having your arse kicked in lazer quest and you really liked to be flirted with by a big old drag queen." She paused, her smirk widening a fraction. "And you just loooooooved having Moni rubbing her foot against your crotch."

"I thought that was your foot!"

Blue grinned impishly at him. "I know." She lifted her leg up parallel with her body to show her tiny, size-two foot to him. Wiggling it, she inquired. "Didn't you wonder my foot was suddenly almost as long as my leg?"

"Er..."

"Hoi, Blue, chuck!" Taking the distraction from the warm ups gratefully, Andy looked over in the same direction as Blue. Jonny had burst into the room and in a blink had swung his tiny friend off her feet. "Hiya Andy! Have fun?"

Blue nudged Jonny. "He loved it. Really."

"Shaddup."

Jonny sniggered. "I got someone who wants to meet you, Andy." He remarked, gesturing to a figure in the doorway. A tall, lean man entered, flashing a broad grin down at Blue who winked back at him. 

"I'm sure I've seen you somewhere." Andy stared at the tawny face. The man was boy-band-good-looking, with a dark mane slicked back in a ponytail, designer stubble scattered over his chin. He chuckled.

"I'm Ramon." He explained. He bent forward and murmured close to Andy's ear. "And I know what you hide down the front of those trousers of yours...Blue is a lucky gal. Are you absolutely sure I can't make you join the dark side?"

A pair of wam lips brushed Andy's ear and he uttered a girlie squeal. "Moni!"

"Whaddya know! He recognised me!" Ramon chuckled.

Grabbing Blue, Andy jerked her in front of him. "Back! Back I tell ya!"

"Anyone would think you didn't like me." The dark-haired man would have pouted, but his smirk overrode it. He ran the tip of his tongue along lips that had been dep crimson the previous night. "Blue, you sure you won't trade?"

Giggling dementedly, Blue shook her head. "You can have any other cast member, but since our boy suffered the humiliation of last night so well, he's getting a reward..." Tugger gaped at Etcetera, who shyly looked up at him. "You free next Sunday night?"

"Y-you're asking me out?"

"No, I'm setting you up with Moni." She bit her lip, smothering a grin. "What does it sound like, big person? Fancy going to the cinema with me and no transvestite?" Andy was still staring at her, agog. "Um...Andy?"

A wide, brilliant grin spread across the Tugger's face. "You're serious?"

"Um...yeah..."

"Everyone!" Andy clapped his hands loudly, commanding the attention of everyone present. "I have an announcement! Blue just asked me to go out with her! Everybody say 'Oooooh! You're a stud, Andy!'"

Jon Marquez in his Gus garb chuckled. "That only comes when you've got laid, Andy. When you've boffed little Blue, we'll call you a stud."

"Not funny, John." Tommy snapped, standing up. He opened his mouth to make some kind of teasing retort, but the expression on her face made him clap his mouth shut, his brow furrowing in clear confusion. 

Andy raised an eyebrow. "What was that about?"

"Nothing!" Blue's voice was a strangled croak. "Scuse me..." Darting off, she skidded through the door of the toilets. Georgina glanced at Tommy, who nodded, then quickly hurried after her, shooting a glare in the direction of John.

Rubbing his neck in confusion, Andy looked at Jonny and Ramon. While they had been laughing moments earlier, both of them were looking in the direction of the toilets with clear concern on their faces.

"Shorty's been feeling a bit sick, since yesterday." Tommy appeared by his side, running a hand distractingly over his rear. "I'm thinkin' she and the burger she massacred had a bit of an argument..."

"Tommy, I'm not stupid."

"You mean you don't believe she has fist fights with chunks of inanimate beef?" The tone in the dancer's voice warned him not to push her any further.

Two small figures emerged from the toilet, Electra's arm around Etcetera's shoulder, the paler of the two's arm around Electra's waist. "I need a drink of water." Blue mumbled. Georgina nodded and hurried away, leaving Blue to make her way to Tommy's side.

"You okay, shrimpy?"

"Just gave up my breakfast." She smiled faintly, promptly having a red arm pulling her close to a curvaceous red body. "Georgie went to get me some water."

Touching her shoulder, Andy was startled when she pulled back from his hand. "Blue, you sure you're okay?"

"Me? Yeah...uh huh...Tommy?" The red cat's eyes met the tiny dancer's and a mutual understanding seemed to be reached. Tommy nodded, squeezing her shoulders. "Andy, do you...um...do you still want to go to the cinema?"

"Only if you're sure you want to, shorty."

Blue reached over and squeezed his hand. "I do." She nodded.

***

The first time that Andy found Blue on stage was during the 'Jelicle Songs for Jellicle Cats' up on the ledge high above the main body of the audience. He flashed a broad grin at her, offering his hand to her.

Batting at him playfully, she ducked her head, spinning up onto her toes to be fastened onto the trapeze wire.

Moving behind her, holding the swing in place, he put a hand quickly on her hip to stabilise her. Pale blue darted to his face in surprise. Apparently Norman didn't bother to do such a thing, he thought, giving her a reassuring smile.

Clipping the hooks of the security cable that attached her to the swing onto her belt, she shifted the belt until it was comfortable. Flexing her hands, she stood on her toes and grasped the bar tightly.

"Ready, sweetie?" He whispered, pulling her back by the belt at her waist. She nodded, a shiver of pleasure passing through her as his fingers skimmed over a sensitive spot at the base of her back.

Giving her a firm push, he watched her swing, almost smacking Antoine on the head. In his Skimbleshanks guise, Antoine clutched his heart and dropped onto his knees on the mattress, wagging a finger up at them.

Andy heard a giggle escape Blue as he caught her hips for the second swing. "Kick him in the head this time." He hissed in her ear, before giving her another push off. He didn't think she had heard, but one of her feet dipped a little lower than usual.

Catching her as she swung back in, they exchanged glances, then looked down at the pouting Antoine. He rubbed his head, as if gravely offended, making them both laugh. Re-hanging the trapeze up, Andy nuzzled her shoulder.

"See you down there." He whispered, squeezing her shoulder, then darted away, leaving Blue to undo the security cable.

Unfastening herself, she raced down the stairs, unbuckling the heavy belt she wore for the trapeze and depositing with one of the stage-hands, before darting onto the stage for the final part of the song and dance routine, receiving a broad grin from both Tommy and Andy.

***

Stretched out in the half-pipe again, his legs dangling over one side, Andy felt a finger tap in the centre of his head. Tipping his head back over the other side of the pipe, an upside-down Etcetera swam into his line of sight.

Flashing a wide grin at her, he sniffed in her direction. Leaning forward, Blue delicately sniffed closer to him, then pulled a face. Andy mocked indignation, sitting up and sniffing at himself with a frown.

Beckoning her forward, he sniffed at her, then pretended to faint from the smell. Blue stifled a giggle, leaning over him. She yelped in surprise when he sat up and nudged his nose against hers.

Behind Andy, Malcolm rolled his eyes, looking down at the audience he could see, seated on the edge of the moving platform. Nodding in the direction of Tugger, he made a gesture of 'He stinks!' in the taller actor's direction.

Unfortunately for Malcolm, Andy noticed and looked indignant, swatting at him. Mistoffelees looked contrite, but as soon as he looked away, Tugger sniffed at himself again, then pretended to spray himself with some kind of deodorant.

Blue had scrambled back and was sitting directly behind Old Deuteronomy, chewing on her knuckles to try and stop herself laughing out loud. Casting a sidelong glance at her, Andy winked. The tiny girl hid her face behind her warmer, a wide grin on her face.

Benjamin – Deuteronomy – looked over to see what the fuss was about, receiving an innocent look from Andy, a helpless expression from Malcolm and almost yelled when two little arms wrapped around him from behind.

Reaching up behind him, he ruffled the kitten's wig and laughed as she bounced around to sit beside him. Hoisting his tail up, she wrapped it around her shoulders as if it were a feather boa and preened.

Tugger nudged Mistoffelees, who fell back in the pipe, laughing. It was only made worse, when Etcetera blew a kiss in their direction, exaggerating a pout and fanning herself with the end of the immense tail.

On the mattress, Rumpleteaser seemed to have noticed the game and held up an imaginary piece of paper and pen to the preening Etcetera, who looked smug and signed an imaginary autograph for the tiger tabby.

Rumpleteaser hugged it to her chest, keeling over in a dead faint on the mattress, her legs sticking straight up in the air.

Old Deuteronomy covered a snigger with a cough, biting on his lower lip. He gestured for the kittens to behave and listen while Gus was telling his story. Fortunately for them, they realised that they were about to be cued to run off to get ready for Growltiger.

Blue hastily untied the tail from her neck and bent down to poke Rumpleteaser in the ribs, unaware that Jenni, who played that cat, was horrifically ticklish. A shriek of laughter from Jenni ruined the first bar of Gus' soliloquy and reduced Etcetera and Rumpleteaser to giggles again.

Joining Blue on the tyre beside Deuteronomy, the pair of them huddled together, Blue shoving her tail in Rumpleteaser's mouth to keep her quiet. Rumpleteaser blinked at her, looking completely bewildered by why she couldn't speak, which only made them both giggle more.

Shaking his head, Andy couldn't help being relieved when he was allowed to hurl himself over the back of the set and release the laugh he had been holding in, receiving a broad, impish grin from Blue as she darted around to retrieve her Siamese costume. If she actually acted like this around him outwith the theatre, he could see their date being a very interesting one indeed.

***

"I can't believe you made me sit through that!"

"What?"

"It was a bleedin' Disney film! A kid's film!"

"It was a choice of that or the slasher film..."

"That's no excuse!"

"Tell me you didn't enjoy it."

"Well..."

"Well?"

Blue glared at him. "All right." She raised her hands. "I agree! I had fun." She grinned ruefully up at the tall dancer. "Pelting the usher with smarties was more fun than I expected." Pausing to zip up her coat, she looked around. "Wanna walk me back to Tommy's?"

"Those were my orders from her royal Bossiness. She seemed to think you were very likely to get lost." Andy drawled, snatching the girl's hat from her hand and squashing it down over her head, flattening her spiky blue hair until her fringe was pressed over her eyes.

"Hoi!" Swatting his hands away, she adjusted the hat until it was at a position she could see out from beneath. "Don't touch my hat." He poked it and raised a brow with a cocky grin. "Are you just trying to make me whap you?"

He bent and tapped her on the nose. "Would I do such a thing, Blue?"

"Yes!" Dainty fists on her hips, she leaned back to pout up at him. "I'm gonna tell Tommy you were bullying me!"

"If I was bullying you..." He advanced towards her, his hands outstretched. "I would do this..."

"Andy!" The girl shrieked in surprise as she was swung off the ground and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Pummeling his back as he started to walk along the street, she yelled in indignation. "Put me down!"

Pausing her to bring her back over his shoulder to his face level, he cocked his head. "You don't like having a free ride home?"

"Not when all I can see is your arse!" She coloured rapidly, one hand resting on his shoulder, the other clapped to her face in embarrassment. "Er...that came out wrong..."

"My arse came out?" Peering behind him, Andy couldn't help smiling at her giggle. "Want me to put you down?" She nodded, still a bright shade of pink. "Well, we'll have to make some kind of deal..."

"D-Deal?"

"Uh huh..." Pondering, he grinned. "Here's an idea. I put you down and you repay me by..."

"By?" She tilted her head uncertainly. 

"Holding my hand?" 

Visibly relieved, she nodded and he deposited her carefully on the pavement. Straightening her jacket, she adjusted her hat over her ears, then looked up at him, holding out one small, child-like hand. 

Laying his own large hand palm to palm with hers, her tiny fingers interlaced between his and he couldn't hide a happy grin. "Now, which way do you want to go? The quick one passed the skips or the scenic route?"

"Where does this scenic route take us?" She was staring at their joined hands, as if she couldn't believe that she had actually taken his hand by choice.

Andy chuckled. "How about out over the river? We'd get to see that freaky great big wheely thing and the houses of Parliament and all kinds of well interesting cultural stuff...or so I've been told, at least."

"And the sewage and stuff in the water?"

He looked down at her, saw the mischievous glint in her blue eyes and couldn't help smiling slightly. "Well, we can always hope, can't we, you little romantic?"

"I try." She replied, smiling shyly up at him.

Returning the smile, he gave her small hand a squeeze, as they started to walk down the long road away from the cinema.

***

Ascending the long staircase, the two dancers came to a halt in front of the elaborate door of Tommy's flat, Blue one step further up the flight than Andy was. They were still holding each other's hands.

"Well...um...here we are..." Turning to him, she squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile, as if uncertain what action to proceed with. "I..." One hand went to her pocket, fumbling for her keys. "I had a good time."

Raising his free hand, he touched her cheek lightly. "I did too, shorty." He murmured, his mismatched eyes finding hers. Wetting her lips, she stared up at him. "But then, any time with you is...and God! I sound like I should be acting in a cheesy sit-com!" He gave her a lop-sided grin. "But it's true."

Unconsciously, the distance between them was reduced as he bent, his forehead softly brushing against hers.

"You sappy git." She whispered, rising on her toes to kiss him lightly on the cheek. There was a momentary pause as her hand slid over his shoulder, running through his loose hair. Then, she pulled him down to her height and brought their lips together.

Both of them shivered at the contact, his arms moving to her waist, pulling her closer. Her fingers wove through his dark mane, her body stretched to the limit. Sliding his arms under her rear, Andy felt her giggle against his lips when he lifted her off her feet to his level, their lips never separating.

A loud 'Ahem?' from behind them made their eyes pop open and they broke contact, both panting and pink-cheeked, but looking very pleased about it. Blue, still hoisted a foot off the ground in Andy's arms, looked around. Tommy raised a brow.

"Um...what?" The smallest of the triad inquired.

"Little sister, what have I told you about bringing strange men home with you?" She gave Blue a reproving look. The blue-haired girl tried to look contrite, but in her current position, she didn't look anything but ridiculous and happy.

Andy jiggled her. "What has she told you, shorty?"

"No men..." Resting her head against his shoulder, her arms still around his neck, she yawned softly. "Strange, attractive women...any time...clad in skimpy undies as a rule..." Her eyes were drifting closed, as she murmured. "S'not fair."

Tommy looked from the young woman to the man cradling her gently against his chest and whistled under her breath.

"Give her here, big guy." She held out her arms, making a 'give me' gesture with her fingertips. Andy looked bewildered. "It's past little sister's bed time and trust me when I say she wouldn't want you in her bedroom, let alone putting her to bed."

"But you can't carry her..."

"And why not? It's easier than waking her." Sliding one arm against the back of Blue's knees, her other around the girl's ribs, she grinned as Andy gently laid the sleeping Blue back carefully in her embrace. "Thanks, Andy." She said. "For a penis-endowee, you're not so bad."

He nodded absently, bending to touch his lips to Blue's brow. "Tell her I said goodnight, Tommy." He said softly.

"Will do." Tommy flashed a genuine smile at him, shifting Blue's head to rest against her shoulder. "I think she would say good night too...if she was conscious, that is." Pushing the door behind her open with her foot, she stepped across the thresh hold. "See you at work, mate."

Andy nodded. "You too." Tommy nudged the door shut with her foot and Andy spun around in a giddy circle and practically bounced his way down the stairs, a painfully wide grin on his face.

Inside the flat, the oriental-looking dancer easily carried her tiny friend to her own little bedroom and carefully deposited her on the vivid scarlet and blue bedclothes. Sitting on the edge of the younger girl's mattress, she removed the hefty boots and methodically stripped Blue's clothing off, folding it neatly.

"Hmm?" The girl stirred, snagging one of the pillows and hugging it under her head. "Tommy... m'I nekkid?"

"You are short stuff." Pulling an extra large CATS shirt out from beneath Blue's pillow, she steered the half-asleep Blue into a semi-sitting position and tugged the shirt easily over the girl's hand, smoothing it down her body.

Laid back down amid the duvet and pillows, Blus smacked her lips and inquired sleepily. "Did 'e go 'way?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Where'd 'e go?" Blue curled up into a ball on the duvet, oblivious to Tommy struggling to pull her arms through the sleeves of the t-shirt that served as a nightshirt.

"He went home, little sister." Tommy half-smiled, reaching over to brush a blue lock back from the girl's forehead. "Didn't want to see what your scrawny arse looked like, sans clothing. He said good night, though."

Blue yawned. "G'ni' back..." A moment later, one eye slitted open. "D'I kiss 'im?" Tommy nodded with another small smile. Blue smiled dopily, closing her eye again. "T'was nice...do it 'gain, soon..."

"A word of advice, little sister."

Blue's eye cracked open again. "Hmm?"

"Next time, use a ladder."

"Righto." Her eye closed again and she burrowed into the pillow. Tommy chuckled, rolling the younger girl under the blankets and tucking her in. Bending, she pressed a kiss to Blue's brow, smoothing the mussed blue mane.

"Sleep well, little sister." She murmured, tracing Blue's cheek fondly with her fingertips. Rising, she smiled once more down at the girl, then left the room, switching the light off and closing the door quietly behind her.

***

"Andy!" A voice hissed in his ear. A finger poked him sharply between two ribs. Grumbling, the dancer swatted at the offending hand, snuggling deeper into the mass of covers that were piled over him. "Andy!" The poke was repeated, hard enough to make him squeal. "There's some daft cow on the phone for you."

"Uh...?" Peering out hazily at the blurry face above, he squinted in the direction of his alarm clock. "Whu...what time?"

His stepbrother glared at him, scratching at his belly with one hand. "It's three thirty in the bloody morning." The phone was shoved into Andy's hand and he registered the sound of his door slamming as said stepbrother stormed out.

"'Lo?" Rubbing his eyes, he was mid-yawn when the voice rang in his ear and he jerked upright, suddenly wide-awake.

"Sorry to wake you, big guy."

"Blue?!?" She chuckled faintly. "No! Not a problem! I was awake...er...am awake, kinda." He pushed his hair back from his face. "So...uh...shorty, got a reason for waking me from my beauty sleep?"

He could visualise the cheeky grin that had become so familiar. "Just wanted to see how much worse you looked without it, Biggin." There was a long pause and he wondered if she had hung up. Then she sighed. "Andy..."

"Uh huh?"

"What we did at the front door..."

"The kiss?"

She exhaled another short breath. "Yeah...the kiss..."

"Was there something wrong?"

"No!" Her voice was quickly hushed, probably to avoid waking Tommy. "No...nothing was wrong. I...I just wanted to...to...to thank you, I s'pose." A wrinkle of puzzlement crossed his brow. "And..."

He waited for a moment. "And?"

"And why?"

"Why what? Why did I kiss you back?"

"Uh huh."

He scratched his jaw with a frown, staring up at the ceiling. "Um...because I wanted to?" She was silent. "Look, Blue, love, what's wrong? I really like you, you know, and I was hoping that maybe you liked me too. If the kiss felt wrong...if it was too soon or whatever...just tell me, okay?"

"It's not that." She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. "P-please Andy, bear with me...I've never done this before...I don't know how is meant to work..." He heard a muffled sniffle and felt a surge of guilt. "Wh-what I want to know is...are-are we a couple?"

His eyes widened. "That's what you were so worried about?"

"Andy, please...just tell me...I'm confused enough already."

"So you call me when I'm unconscious?" He teased, faltering off as he heard another stifled sniffle. "Blue, shorty...sorry. I'll behave." He rolled onto his side and reached over to switch the bedside lamp on. It lit up the group photo of him, her, Moni and Jonny at the Laser Questing. His fingers traced the outline of her face and he smiled. "We can be a couple if you want me. I know I'd be chuffed to bits." There was a long silence. "Um...shorty? Your move..."

There was a pause that was shattered by a giggle. That giggle became shriller and developed into a demented Etcetera-squeal. "Omigosh! I have a boyfriend! EEEEEEEEEh!!!" She was probably bouncing on her bed, Andy mused, fighting to hide a grin. "Really? You wanna be my boyfriend? Are you serious? If you're joking, Tommy'll pummel ya! You're not joking, are ya? You're my boyfriend? Honest? Totally absolutely positively? You like me like me? Not just like me? EEEEEEEh! This is so cool!"

"Calm down, shorty!" He laughed. "Yes, I like you like you. Didn't the dates and the letting myself be publicly humiliated by Jonny's transvestite boyfriend just so you felt comfortable drop a hint or two? Heck, even the kiss?"

"I'm a bit slow!" She giggled madly, then choked off. "Uh-oh! Tommy's comin'! See you tomorrow, Andy-who-is-my-boyfriend!" The phone clicked off and he sank back with a broad grin, his eyes drifting to the photo again.

Monique was swooning in his arms, Jonney hugging his leg and Blue hanging over his shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. Even though it was only a photograph, he could see the mischief and laughter in her blue eyes.

"Oh God…" He groaned, still grinning. "Little Miss Hyperactive is my girlfriend...I must have some kinda death wish..."

***

Running through the warm-ups the next day, Andy had been rather concerned to note a distinct absence of a blue-haired participant.

"Tommy...?"

"She'll be here, Andy." The dancer chuckled. "Don't worry so much."

Andy frowned. "But she missed warm-ups..." He started to say, but Tommy had disappeared, leaving him to go and get his make-up on. Norman was finally back, so he had been dragged in, in place of Tony, as Admetus, while Tony was on holiday.

"Why so concerned?" Jordan inquired, cocking his head to paint the white pattern up his cheek. With the pattern of a black tattoo decorating much of his face, it still impressed Andy that Jordan could actually hide it with white grease paint.

"I was kinda hoping to see shorty today." The centre of his face whited up, Andy snatched the reddish paint and dabbed it around the edged of his face. "We kinda had a date last night and it went well...I wanted to see her."

Jordan raised a pierced eyebrow, then seemed to realise that CATS didn't have eyebrow rings and hurriedly unfastened it, removing it. "Did Tommy say if she was off today?"

"She said she'd be in, but then she did that annoying disappearing act…" He paused to add his black nose carefully. "I know Blue's missed the warm-ups once or twice before, but she wasn't even in, in time to do her make up."

Beyond Jordan, Raymond peered around at Andy. "Hon, don't be so worried. She'll be in, as usual."

But the tiny dancer was nowhere to be seen as the cast gathered in the lounge area, waiting to go on. Straightening and re-straightening his warmers, Andy's brow wrinkled in a frown.

He was on his way over to Tommy, when the door swung inwards with a crash. A little form carrying something large and flat, wrapped in a black bin liner, tottered in, a bright red hat pulled down on her head.

"Hi guys!" Blue squealed happily, half-dragging the bundle that was almost the same height as her.

Andy gaped at her. "Blue? Why aren't you in costume?"

"No hurry, big guy!" She grinned, hurrying in his direction, the package she was dragging thumping against people's legs and feet as she passed. "Stand aside people! Midget with a thing coming through!"

Coming to a halt in front of him, she started to unwrap the shiny, black bin bag from the object she had been carrying. Suddenly feeling very suspicious, Andy started to back away from her.

"Ah-ah!" She wagged a finger at him. "Stay put!"

"What are you…" He trailed off as she unfolded a small step-ladder and set it up in front of him. There was a loud guffaw from Tommy and Blue's grin widened as she hopped up the steps until she was standing level with him. "This…uh…this looks kinda ridiculous, shorty."

She nodded. "I know." She said brightly, before pulling his face to hers, by his wig and kissing him.

Wolf-whistles and cheers abounded, as the startled Andy wrapped his arms around the tiny dancer's waist. Finally pulling away from him, Blue's grin was blinding as she mussed his wig.

"Your make-up's a mess." She noted.

"Your fault." He replied, still staring at her. "Why a ladder?"

Blue looked down at the structure she was standing on, then grinned over at Tommy. "I took a friend's advice." She replied, dropping another kiss on his lips. "I gotta go change…see you onstage?"

"Uh…"

With one last hug, she bounced down the ladder. "I'll take that as a yes." She grinned impishly and darted off.

Tommy approached and clapped him on the back. "Well done, Andy."

"A ladder?"

"You might want to tidy your make-up up…"

"You told her to use a frickin' ladder?"

"Well, yeah." Bombalurina winked at him. "Wasn't it cute? To think you're gonna have to probably deal with that every day…"

Andy muttered an insult at her under his breath, tottering off in the direction of the dressing rooms. "I hate you, Tommy!"

"You too, sweetie! You too…" Chuckling she started off in the direction of the dressing room that Blue had disappeared into. Things were certainly going to be interesting, she mused, shaking her head with a laugh.


	4. The Cast - Part 4 - Cat Out Of The Bag

The green room was buzzing. The show was due to start in ten minutes and only the late or the truly disorganised weren't ready. To a fan, it would be wonderful chaos. Alonzo was leaning against the wall, talking to Mistoffelees. 

Etcetera had her arm looped around Admetus waist and was laughing at something that Mungojerrie had said, while Bombalurina sat on one of the chairs, swinging her tail back and forth in her hands.

"Afternoon, people!" A ginger-coloured face peered around the door. Antoine entered in full Skimbleshanks attire, followed by a pretty young woman and child. The woman looked Asian with coffee-coloured skin, ebony hair and golden-brown eyes, but her tall and slim build suggested Western stock somewhere in her blood.

"Heya Twang." Admetus - or Andy - waved merrily. "Bringing in the friends to see us?"

"Hon, if he brings in friends this cute, I say any time!" Raymond was already cooing over the child, who looked like she was around five years old. She giggled behind a small hand. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"I'm Cassie." She replied, twisting her toe shyly in the carpet. The American lifted his eyes to her mother.

She smiled, offering a hand. "I'm Meenah O'Neill." Her voice had a musical lilt to it.

"O'Neill?" Tommy sashayed towards Meenah and there was no mistaking the interest in her eyes, as she looked the woman up and down. Whoever she was, Meenah had the form of a dancer. "I didn't realise that Antoine's relatives were so good-looking."

Antoine smirked. "I'd be much obliged if you'd stop flirting with my wife, Tommy."

There was a long silence.

Then everyone in the room started to laugh, loudly and painfully.

"His wife! Oh, that's a good one!"

"I can't believe I almost fell for that!"

"Anybody else feeling stupid?"

"You really had us going there, Twang."

The orange-painted man and Meenah exchanged glances and small smiles. Lifting Cassie up to his hip, he wrapped his other arm around the young woman. Then, slowly and deliberately, he started to grin.

Andy was the first to break the stunned silence. "Oh God...you...you're serious?"

"He..." Raymond looked bewildered, pointing from Antoine to the Meenah and back again. "He's straight?"

"She's married?" Tommy wailed.

"To him?" Blue added.

"What is she?" Jonny put in.

"Crazy?" Andy offered.

"Must be!" Blue agreed.

"Fainting!" Tommy's hand latched onto Raymond's arm.

"Catching, hon."

Jonny shook his head mournfully. "Antoine, this is just not what you tell us five minutes before we go on!" Malcolm was fanning the sitting Tommy, his tail spinning like a propeller. "What about recovery time?"

"And mourning!" Raymond added bleakly.

"Daddy, why did the funny lady sit down?" Cassie poked her father's shoulder, pointing over at the seated Tommy.

Neither husband nor wife had spoken during the exchange, both grinning widely. Meenah chuckled at Raymond's expression. "You fancied my husband, huh?" She smiled at the man beside her. "Can't say I blame you."

"B-but how?" Blue was almost eclipsed by her boyfriend. "How? What? How?"

Antoine grinned. "We just had our sixth anniversary." Meenah tugged on his tail playfully. "We were on tour together seven years ago. She was the cutest pussy you ever did see."

"Too much information!" Blue grabbed at the ears of her wig, squeezing her eyes shut. "As if hearing it from Tommy isn't bad enough!"

Meenah laughed. "No! I was Cassandra to his Mungojerrie, on the tour." She swung her daughter into her arms. "Rumple got a wee bitty pissed off with us, needless to say. And it's just lucky for Cass that she was a girl."

"Lemme guess." Malcolm put in dryly. "Mungojerrie O'Neill didn't quite have that special ring you were looking for?"

"Got it in one." Antoine looked petulant. "She says she won't have another kid until I change jobs."

She glared at him. "I'm not risking having a son named Skimbleshanks, thank you very much. You and the registry forms are bad enough when left alone!" A call of 'Places' rang out and she hugged her husband briefly. "Have fun, you lot." She said to the group. "And you," She turned to her partner. "Behave."

"Yes, mummy." He stuck out his tongue at her back, as she turned to go through to her seat.

"I saw that, my dear." She called sweetly over her shoulder, before she slinked out of the door, her daughter bouncing after her.

Antoine shook his head. "And she wondered why they cast her as Cassandra..."

***

For much of the first half of the show, Antoine was surprised to be on the receiving end of Tommy's cold shoulder, the tall dancer ignoring his every attempt at interaction. While he had thought she was in a playful mood because of her flirting with Meenah, her mood had apparently gone downhill.

Yanking her tail, he received a hiss and a swat, which was the reaction normally reserved for Kashka only. To have Tommy acting like that was certainly not normal.

Getting near Blue up on the car boot, he gave her a nudge, nodding towards Tommy and raised a questioning eyebrow. The tiny girl gave him a rueful smile, gesturing that she would explain later on.

For the first time since Tommy had taken the fur of Bombalurina, her performance seemed to be off. Something seemed to be distracting her so much that she miss-stepped on at least half a dozen occasions.

Even as they were coming into the opening of the Jellicle Ball, Antoine glanced back at the tall dancer. She was looking at the stage, as she performed the routine blindly, but that wasn't what surprised him. Tears were streaking her face.

Sinking to the side, he gave Blue a poke to get her attention, nodding for her to get her roommate off the stage. The girl nodded, springing rapidly to the back of the group and grabbing Tommy's arm.

The red dancer shook her head vehemently, but still allowed herself to be steered towards the edge of the stage. As other members of the cast darted on, obscuring them from sight, both Blue and Tommy disappeared down the ramp.

When it came to the bump-n-grind routine that Bombalurina was so famous for in the ball sequence, more than one cast member snorted with laughter as a tiny figure swung in from the edge of the stage.

The snorts turned to laughs of surprise as Blue mimicked Tommy to perfection, with that kittenish edge still making it all a big joke, a blinding grin on her face.

Smaller and lighter than Tommy, Norman swooped down on her, hoisting her up onto his shoulders, where she balanced on her belly, her arms and legs gracefully poised as he spun to the back of the stage.

Putting her down carefully, he murmured. "Hon, where's Tom?"

"Later." She demurred, hurrying to her next position. Assuming her own position for the rest of the Ball, she was aware of questioning looks people shot in her direction, but ignored them to concentrate on the main dance.

She was the first to run off when the ball came to an end, after gesturing for Georgina to take her place. Andy and Antoine followed, both concerned. They heard her light footsteps pattering rapidly up the flights of stairs, then a door closed.

"She's bloody quick." Antoine huffed, jogging up the stairs behind Andy, who flashed a broad grin back at him. They finally reached the top of the stairs, opening the door to the social seating area.

In one of the seats nearest the wall, shadowed from the main area by bits of costume, they could see a red figure, with a smaller figure seated in her lap.

"Blue?" Andy started between the seats towards them. "Is she okay?"

The petite dancer looked up at him with a faint smile, Tommy hugging her closer. "She's just a bit upset, Andy." She was cradling her roommate's head against her shoulder, her arms around the older dancer.

"What's up, old crow?" Malcolm had edged around the two taller dancers to kneel beside Tommy's chair. He gave her knee a gentle squeeze. "C'mon, gorgeous. You're gonna have to say something or else you'll be renamed the Ice Queen."

"Sod off!"

"Well...that's something." Malcolm nodded amiably, when Blue waved him and the others away. Getting to his feet, he looked towards the door, where a figure had just been brought through from the lower floors. "Wait a minute...Tommy, isn't it your anniversary?"

A black-gloved hand rose and made a rude gesture at the male dancer. "M-my b-b-b-bitch of a g-girlfriend f-forgot..." The muffled sobs reached him. "S-seven sodding years..."

"Tommy." Blue slid off Tommy's lap and lifted the older dancer's face in the direction of the door. Brown eyes went wide, as the oriental-looking dancer rose to her feet, staring at her girlfriend and the immense bunch of crimson roses.

Sylvie smiled. "I wanted to surprise you, love." She said, placing the flowers on a chair next to her. "Someone downstairs said Blue thought I should come up now." Opening her arms, she laughed as Tommy grabbed her in a hug. "Happy Anniversary, Tommy."

Hugging the blonde tightly, Tommy felt tears of happiness overriding the earlier ones. "I thought you had forgotten." She whispered, Sylvie's hands running down her back to teasingly nip at her rear.

"How could I forget, Tom?" The blonde smiled again, turning Tommy's face to hers. "You're my girl." She touched a light kiss to her lover's lips. "Always my girl, even if you forgot my birthday, last week."

"I did not..." Tommy started to protest.

Sylvie grinned. "Shut up, you daft cow." She said, crushing her mouth to Tommy's, hugging the lycra-clad dancer close to her body. Tommy's arms wrapped around Sylvie's neck, her fingers winding through the blonde's silky hair.

"Now that is just unfair." John Marquez grumbled as he passed in Gus regalia. "Two gorgeous ladies should be snogging me instead of each other." As one, Tommy and Sylvie lifted their hands and gave him the single-fingered and double-fingered salute respectively.

Raymond was smiling slightly. "Y'know," He remarked. "If I was straight, I'm bettin' I'd be findin' those two hunnies quite a turn on." He looked down at Malcolm, who was kneeling to adjust his warmer, a faint smile crossing his lips. "But I ain't straight, thank God." He drew his eyes away from Malcolm as the smaller dancer looked up.

"Blue," Andy cleared his throat. "Um...could you distract me please?"

"Can't deal with Tommy and Sylly together?" She looked over at her roommates with a broad smile as they broke apart, then hugged each other tightly. "Those ladies almost convinced me I batted for their side."

Andy tutted. "Can't have you thinking that." He remarked, bending and pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth. 

"You'll have to wait til later for that, though." She shoved him indelicately away. "I'm not having you messing up my make-up. Tommy's made enough of a mess of my unitard and wig." She slipped past him before he could stop her and ran over to Tommy and Sylvie. "You two all reconciled and stuff?"

Their arms still wrapped lovingly around each other, they nodded happily. "I'm taking Tommy out tonight." Sylvie said with a broad smile. "You know that exclusive ladies club you always wanted to go to?" Tommy nodded. "Guess who got tickets!"

"You didn't!"

"As soon as you're finished here, we're going into the Crimson Velvet." Sylvie was bowled over by the red-clad Tommy, who was squealing like a teenybopper. 

Smattering kisses all over the blonde's face, Tommy hugged her tightly. "Have I mentioned that I love you lately, Sylly?" Pressing a last kiss to her lover's mouth, Tommy hauled her upright. "But, now, gorgeous, I have to straighten my make-up and show you how sexy Bomba can really be."

"Oh dear God..." Andy was heard to mutter.

While Tommy raced away, Sylvie straightened her ankle-length dress coat. Damp patches from her lover's unitard were visible on the front of her cocktail dress, but she didn't seem to care anymore about that than she cared about the colours striped over her face.

"Do you think she's forgiven me?" Sylvie looked down at Blue, who was sipping some water from a tumbler. 

"I think she'll manage." Blue grinned. "How long in advance did you have to book for those tickets then?"

Sylvie gave her a mischievous smile. "I've had them for two months. I put them the one place I knew she wouldn't look in a million years." Blue raised her eyebrows. "In the pile of sensible underwear in her drawers."

Again, Andy was heard to proclaim. "Oh dear God..."

***

If Kashka was bitter about Tommy stealing her thunder normally, on that particular night Kashka was not only staring daggers, but axes, chain saws and butcher's knives. And, for once, Tommy didn't care.

She found her girlfriend, sitting in the second row of the moving platform and was dancing for her alone. Just when stage manager had thought Bombalurina couldn't get any closer to needing censorship, Tommy proved him wrong.

For once, John Marquez wasn't the only cast member staring mutely at Tommy as she danced. Robbie, as Munkustrap, knew he was allowed to play around with any of the Queens as long as he returned to Demeter, so he took the chance to play around. Bombalurina and Munkustrap had never been more intimate.

Norman wasn't one to be left out, the flirtation between Tugger and Bombalurina heated up to boiling point, as she ended up in his arms during Mistoffelees and gave him a sultry, come-hither look.

Even Skimbleshanks, Mungojerrie, Coricopat and the kittens weren't left out. The Jonson twins both faked swoons as Bombalurina rubbed up against them, slumping on top of one another in a heap on the stage.

However, two pairs of eyes were never on Tommy. They were never on each other at the same moment, either. Raymond and Malcolm were never at the same side of the stage for more than a few seconds, each glancing the other furtively.

Blue had arranged for Etcetera to spend a lot more time closer to Admetus than usual, her rust-coloured side-kick being given the role of trying to distract either Raymond or Malcolm, or both if she could manage.

While all of them did like Helen Marsden, who played Grizabella, the biggest challenge for a cast member was to try and make another cast member laugh, while they were looking away from her during Memory.

Malcolm was sitting on the tyre, facing the back wall, while Raymond was seated on the car bumper, on the far side of Old Deuteronomy. Both of them were pretending that they weren't aware the other one was there, neither of them doing a very good job of it.

Georgina as the rusty Electra was sitting on top of the mattress next to Blue and Andy, all three of them staring straight at Malcolm, daring him to grin. His pale eyes flicked sidelong one moment, a faint twitch tugging at the corner of his lip.

Blue pouted at him, her face hidden from much of the audience by Andy's wig. Most of them were watching Grizabella anyway. Malcolm saw the pout, saw Andy's hand rise and saw him yank on Blue's lower lip. He cracked. A grin flashed on his face before he could stop it.

Leaning on Andy's back, Electra licked her finger and marked a one in the air, her eyes dancing with mischief. The trio then turned their attention to Raymond, who had foolishly chanced to glance in their direction when he saw Malcolm's grin.

They usually made him grin within a matter of seconds, which usually coincided perfectly with Grizabella's bellow of "TOUCH ME!" but he stared back at the three of them, resolutely, blankly, expressionless.

"Oh brilliant..." Georgina whispered as Grizabella came to the peak of her crescendo. "We didn't get Smiler."

Andy looked puzzled. "S'weird." He hissed back, rising on hands and knees as Cassie – pure white Victoria – moved towards Grizabella, stretching out her hands to the older actress. "He normally cracks in seconds..."

"Oh!"

"Oh what, shorty?"

They rose together, sliding off the mattress. "He goes home tomorrow." She muttered. "He's gonna be away from Mal."

"Ah..." Georgina and Andy nodded in unison, flashing broad grins at Malcolm, who scowled at them, before turning Grizabella towards Old Deuteronomy. His petulant expression only made them grin even more widely.

Andy took a chance to softly asked. "Does Mal know?"

"About the crush or the holiday?"

"Either."

Blue looked from the black and white Mistoffelees to Alonzo. She shook her head. "Neither."

***

"How do I look?" Her face carefully made-up, her body given a quick rinse by standing in a basin in the ladies toilets and pouring a jug or two of warm water over herself, Tommy had dried herself and dressed quickly and was now smoothing her slinky scarlet dress down.

Blue and Georgina both gave admiring whistles and applause as she pirouetted on her stilettos, her hands raised to show off every one of her provocative curves. The redhead shook her head. "You know, Tom, I could so do you right this second."

"I thought you were straight." Turning back to the mirror, the oldest of the trio added her deep crimson lipstick carefully and smacked her lips.

Hiking her loose jeans up, Georgina shrugged. "I like to think of meself as experimental." She said, tucking gingery strands of hair back from her freckled cheeks.

"In other words," Tommy turned to her. "If you can't get laid by a guy, you'll get laid by a woman? Am I even close?" Georgina's face cracked in a broad, cheeky grin. "You're a right little nympho, you are."

Brushing her knuckles on her T-shirt, the red head grinned. "And proud of it too, thank you." 

"I think I'll stick with my Andy." Blue looked up at her roommate. "I know what Tommy can be like and I think its probably safer sticking with our resident swing man." She gave Tommy a smile and squeaked as she was tugged into a warm hug.

"You have fun, kid." The older dancer pressed a bright red kiss on Blue's forehead. "I know me and Sylly will. We'll try not to wake you...and Andy when we get it." Blue eyes stared at her in shock. "Okay, okay. You'll still be up. Gotcha."

Blue's face was flaming and she looked down. "He's just taking me home and we're having a takeaway." She muttered. "That's all."

"Want me to come along with you?" Georgina suggested brightly.

The youngest of the three shook her head, smiling faintly. "I'll be okay." She said. "You have fun, Tommy. Sylvie's been planning all of this for months, y'know."

"Bet she hasn't been planning the reward I've got for her when I get her home tonight." The black-haired dancer's grin could only be described as filthy. Blue blushed to the tips of her ears, while Georgina sniggered.

Clearing her throat, Blue pleaded. "Just don't make it too loud."

"You know Sylly." Tommy flashed a wicked smirk at her. "She's always...enthusiastic."

Burying her face in her hands, Blue groaned. "I'll ask Andy to knock me unconscious or something before you get home, okay?" Tommy raised a brow. "Yeah...I know...like that would even be enough..."

Tommy just laughed, looping her arm through Blue's and Georgina's and strutting towards the door with them both by her sides.

***

Half-carrying her girlfriend, Tommy kicked the door open and tossed her keys onto the table that stood beside it. Her attention was focused on steering the giggling and slightly tipsy Sylvie through the opening, as opposed to face-first into the wall.

It was only when the blond tottered forward the ten feet that separated to the door and the black leather couch, tripping head-over-heels over the back of it, her legs flailing in the air, that Tommy realised Andy was there. 

Alone.

Sitting on the arm of the couch, side-on to the front door, he was staring intently at the bathroom door, his brow knit with concern.

"Sylly." Catching the blonde's flailing legs and hauling her upright, Tommy patted Sylvie on the rear. "I want to check on something, okay, love? Go up to bed and I'll be up in a minute." The blonde nodded blearily, planting a badly aimed kiss on Tommy's eye, before staggering towards the stairs and clicking her way up. "So," Turning to Andy, Tommy crossed her arms. "Care to tell me what happened?"

Andy looked around at her, as if just becoming aware that she was standing there. "I-I don't know, Tom." He replied honestly, with a helpless shrug. "We were watching a film...we started messing about and she freaked...ran in there and hasn't come out for an hour."

"Oh brother..." Pulling her long coat off and depositing it over the back of the couch, Tommy moved to the door, stepping out of her shoes as she went. "Blue?" She rapped on the wood. "Kiddo?" There was no reply and the older dancer turned to Andy. "Lemme guess, mate. You went a base further than usual?"

Andy shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. We were having a pillow fight that turned into a tickle match, then..." He looked to the door again.

The Oriental-looking woman sighed. "She didn't tell you, did she?" His blank look answered the question. "Okay," She twisted her body around to unzip her crimson dress as she turned back to the door. "Blue, open the bloody door." She shouted, as she let the dress slide down her body.

"Uh...Tommy?" The all-but-naked dancer glanced at him. Clad in only black stockings and her crimson and black suspenders, she loosened her dark hair around her shoulders. "Uh...you... uh...you're starkers..."

"How observant." She drawled, her waist-length hair shielding much of her stunning figure, to his relief. "Let me explain something, Andy. This is my apartment, so I do what I like it, wear or don't wear what I like, regardless of who might be in."

"So...you wander around naked on a regular basis?"

"Don't be daft!" He looked relieved. "I'm only half-naked now." She turned to the door. "Blue! Get your bony arse over and open the frigging door!" Pounding at the door, she swore in annoyance. "I need my bustier, short stuff! I promised Sylly a treat."

"Is...is he still there?" A shaking voice asked. 

"Who?"

"You know."

"Um...Saint Nick and his crew of gay elves?" Tommy groaned. "Look, kid, my nipps are rock hard. If they get much colder, they'll poke right through the leather. Just get out here with my bustier!" There was a pause, then Tommy slapped the door again. "Like now!"

"But is he..."

"Do I sound like I'm bloody interested, you whiny brat?" Andy was shocked by her callous, cold words. "Come out here before I kick the frigging door in and bill you for it. I've done it before and I can do it again."

"Tom..." Andy started to rise, looking angry. Tommy gestured him back, her expression wrought with anxiety.

There was the soft click of the door being unlocked. A pause. Then, the handle dipped down and the door gradually opened. Her T-shirt stretched and twisted beyond recognition, Blue looked like a lost child, scrubbing her make-up and tear-streaked face with a small fist.

"Oh Lordie be..." Tommy rolled her eyes. "Which toe did you stub this time?"

Blue shifted from one foot to the other, eyes fixed on the floor. "We...it..." One shaking hand brushed across her chest. "I thought...I rem...remembered..." Tears were streaming down her pale face. Andy tried to rise, but was gently pushed back down by Tommy.

"So you went and hid in the bathroom?" The older woman sighed and shook her head. "What did I tell you to do if that happens again, shorty? Always knee 'em in the balls."

Blue hugged herself miserably. "H-he did it that way..." He hands traced over her chest again, shaking violently. "He-he-he did th-that..." Her red-rimmed eyes rose to her friend. "I-I'm scared, Tommy..."

The older dancer uninterested pose melted away and she dropped to her knees in front of the smaller girl. Hugging her tightly, she tilted Blue's chin and kissed her fiercely on the lips, her hand tangling through Blue's hair.

Much to their observer's astonishment, his girlfriend's arms went around Tommy, returning the kiss. Finally, Tommy drew away, cradling the quietly crying Blue against her shoulder and murmuring softly.

Drawing her young friend into her lap, as a mother would a child, Tommy gently rocked the smaller dancer. Andy watched, saying nothing, as one of Tommy's hands disappeared under Blue's shirt, tracing down the centre of the girl's chest.

"See," The dark-haired woman was whispering, her other and stroking Blue's hair. "It doesn't have to feel bad, does it?" She kissed the younger girl's brow, the tiny dancer resting against her own bare body. "You know he wouldn't hurt you, kid...don't you?" 

She nodded for Andy to join them. He came to his knees beside them, bending to press a kiss to her brow. He felt her stiffen and drew back a little.

"Blue, love, she's right." He felt Tommy's hand squeeze his. "I could never hurt you." The same hand lifted his and placed it on his girlfriend's chest. He tried to pull away, but Tommy glared at him cautioningly.

One of his girlfriend's small hands rose, closing across Andy's larger one, where it lay on her breast. "I'm s-sorry, Andy." Sliding from Tommy's lap, she stood up to tearfully wrap her arms around his neck. "I-I-I should have told you."

"Told me what, shorty?"

Blue looked to Tommy for help, sinking down onto Andy's lap, drawing his head down to press her face hotly against his neck. "Can you tell, Tommy?" She whispered, pulling his arms around her in a snug cocoon.

"Course, kiddo." The darker dancer lifted her friend's fingers to her lips. She received a faint smile. "Here's the background, big guy. When our heroine was ten, her parents divorced and her father moved to Canada. When she was thirteen, her old mum got married to a much younger man. How old...?"

"He was t-twenty-three."

Tommy nodded. "Big lad, he was. Tall, strong, rugby-playing sort." She pulled a face. "Then, we had Sara Spense. Tinier than she is now, long, gorgeous blonde hair just like Sylly's and big blue eyes. Cutest and most Angelic-looking thing you could ever imagine."

"H-he was nice when m-m-mum was around." Blue was crying quietly again, her tears burning against the skin of his neck. "B-but he was b-b-bigger than me..." She trailed off, winding a dark lock of Andy's hair around her small fingers. 

Tommy squeezed her knee. "He did the usual routine. Keep it light, a grope here, a pet there, nothing much. Enough to freak little Sara, but trivial enough that if she told her mum, it could be shrugged off as affection." Andy hugged his tiny girlfriend tightly. "You want to add anything?"

"He liked me to sit on his knee." Blue's voice was croaky. "I-I was scared he would hit me more...I had to do what I-I was told..." Andy felt her arms slide around his chest. "Wh-when mum wasn't l-looking, h-he would touch me...touch me in p-p-places...I t-told him to stop and h-he laughed."

Tommy stroked the younger girl's forehead gently. "When she was fourteen and a bit, Sara's mum went away for the weekend, so step-dad took the chance to ground his step-daughter, then tried to get her drunk. That failing, he grabbed her and tried to kiss her."

"I t-t-tried to run away, b-but h-he had locked th-the door." Blue was sobbing softly. "I s-screamed and he-he hit me. H-he was s-so big and f-f-fast..." She pressed her face into the hollow of Andy's shoulder, her arms tight around him. "I c-c-couldn't stop him...he-he said h-he'd kill me..."

"Oh God..." Bringing his girlfriend's face up to his, he stared down at her. "Love, I'm sorry..."

She nodded, cuddling against his chest. "I-I ran away th-the next day." She whispered. "S-Sean had drunk himself un-unconscious...I m-made sure...hit him on the head with th-the desk drawer..."

"Which I would have paid to see." Tommy added.

"H-he had cash s-savings...didn't trust banks...I found them...t-took every pound the b-bastard had...figured h-he owed me s-something...it-it was a-a lot of money...I h-hid it in my clothes...hit him with th-the drawer again...had to climb o-out the window...ran away to Newcastle a-and bought a new identity." She raised her hand to her hair. "I-I became Blue."

There was a long silence broken only by the snoring wheeze of Sylvie, upstairs.

"I-I can't remember h-how I d-did it...I got f-fake ID...booked meself on a train to London...the ID said I was eighteen...I learned how to make myself look older...I looked l-like a teeny punk...I th-thought it was cool...n-no one came near me..."

"Hon, I think it was the fact you were covered in leather, chains and heavy metal gear that scared them away." Tommy chuckled.

Blue pulled a face, scrubbing her nose on the back of her hand. "I g-got to London...f-found a cheap h-hotel to stay in...l-looked for any d-dancing jobs...begged a job at a n-new night-club...a ladies only place...th-they thought I-I looked exotic...there was a b-box-room above the c-club "a-and I got to l-live there f-for a small f-fee."

"I found her there, three years later. She was the little star attraction." Tommy stroked Blue's hair again. "She was the wildest live-wire you ever did see, doing private gigs for small groups or pole and table dancing when it was needed."

"Hold up a second..." Andy looked down at his girlfriend. "You were a lap dancer?"

Blue almost smiled. "N-not quite. I did the pole and table routines, but n-never right down in the laps. I-I-I was the most expensive p-person to g-get a l-lap dance from. Most people liked to-to watch me on the s-stage."

"Until I came along." Tommy said with a dirty leer.

"Perv." Blue whispered. "The b-boss came to me and t-told me someone wanted to buy me for the night. Like a-a date. Nothing more. I-it was going to get me two hundred quid straight off...she sh-showed me Tommy, told me that she was a...a Lady of quality..." She smiled faintly. "She was so beautiful. I couldn't help thinking that if I was going to be a lesbian, why not start with her?"

"She honestly thought I was going to pounce on her and ravish her." The older dancer stroked the younger's thigh affectionately. "Even if I had only asked to meet her to ask what she thought she was doing, dancing at that kinda standard in a sub-standard club, it was mighty tempting not to bring her home with me." She dipped her head to kiss Blue again, fondly. The smaller girl hugged her. "In the end, I did."

"You did?" Andy double-blinked.

Tommy laughed. "Big guy, the furthest Blue and I would ever go is a comforting make-out session. No naughtiness in the contract." She gave the younger girl a smile. "I practically adopted our girl after six months of watching her. Gave her a little boost into the West End circuits and we went for Cats together."

"And now, we're both pussies." Her arm still around Tommy, she pulled Andy down into the hug and buried her face in his neck. "And I've got you." 

He nuzzled her shoulder lightly. "That you have, shorty." He caught her chin, lifting her face to his. "And I'm not going anywhere." He dipped his head down and kissed her softly. Her small hands slid up and wound into his hair.

"Are we all sorted here?" Tommy looked from one to the other, then smiled when there was no reply. "Night, you two." She added in a slightly louder voice, collecting her bustier from the bathroom, before clattering up the stairs, where she pounced on the dozing Sylvie, who squealed.

Both Andy and Blue looked up as yelps and shrieks sounded from the top floor. "Oh great..."

"I-I'll just got and wash my face...you won't go anywhere?"

"Me? I'll listen to the two lesbians making out and wonder how." He gave her a smile as she got to her feet.

As the bathroom door closed, Andy stood, moving to sit on the couch. Stretching out his legs, he stared across the flat, up at the open dance area that was opposite Sylvie and Tommy's open-sided bedroom.

The door opened and he looked around. Blue stood in the doorway, smiling shyly. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt as a nightshirt, her face scrubbed clean, her cheeks rosy, her eyes red-rimmed, but clear.

The dancer swallowed hard, gaping at her. He had seen her looking cute, but he couldn't recall her seeing her look so demure and downright adorable.

He had also never seen her in her nightclothes.

"Uh..." Looking down at his watch, he scrambled to his feet. "Oh! It's very late, Blue!" He reached up for his navy denim coat that was hanging on the wall next to the bathroom door. "I should probably get going..."

Her hand touched his arm. "Andy."

"Well, it is late..."

"I know." She waited until he was looking down at her, lowering her eyes shyly for a moment, then looking up at him. "Do...do you want to stay here tonight?"

"On the couch?" He felt like he was about to drown in the big blue eyes that were staring hopefully up at him. "I don't want to be an imposition, but if you think that would be okay and everything, then I..."

"Andy." She smiled, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down to her level. "I didn't mean on the couch."

"Oh God..." He managed to mumble, before she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Bent backward over the arm of the couch, Andy bent over her, Blue broke the kiss and raised her hands to cup his face.

"Is that a yes?" She asked, suddenly shy again.

Turning his face to press a kiss to her palm, Andy slid an arm under her back, bringing her up against him. "Love, if you're sure," He said, his voice husky with emotion. "That was most definitely a hell yes. I want to show you how much I love you."

He lowered her to her feet, her small hand enfolded in his. "I'm sure, Andy." She said, her voice trembling. "I love you." Mismatched eyes blinked at her, a huge grin spreading across his face, as she reached up to kiss him once more.

"Really?"

"Really." She nodded, leading him by the hand across the living room floor to the door that led to her bedroom. Neither of them noticed Tommy and Sylvie lying on their bellies on their bed, watching as Blue smiled timidly up at Andy, leading him into her room, the door closing quietly behind them.

Her arm around Sylvie's bare back, Tommy sighed. "Finally. I thought those two would never get it on."

"They're cute together." Sylvie agreed sleepily, her chin propped on her crossed wrists. "Even if he's like two feet taller than her." She turned to accept a kiss from Tommy, curling against her girlfriend. "Think we're cute together?"

Tommy smiled, drawing Sylvie back up to the right end of the bed. "Hon," She said, spooning herself around her half-asleep lover. "They can be cute together." She pressed a kiss to the blonde's freckled shoulder, pulling the sheet around her. "We're bloody beautiful."

"And modest." Sylvie smiled, cuddling against the black-haired dancer.

"Absolutely." Tommy agreed, reaching over to flick the light off. "Happy Anniversary, Sylly."

"Happy Anniversary, Tom." They exchanged a good night kiss. "Love you." 

"Love you back."

"Night."

"Night."

There was a moment of silence, then two voices spoke as one.

"Wanna make out?"

***

Leaning on his forearm, Andy gazed down at the girl curled in front of him. Her hair was mussed, a faint smile curving her lips up, her thick lashes smudges on her cheeks. The morning sun was peeping through the blinds already, dappling on the bare skin of her arms and shoulders.

Bending to kiss her gently on the lips, his smiled into the kiss as she murmured sleepily, one hand rising to run through his tangled hair. Sleepy eyes flickered open as she snuggled back against him, giving him a lazy smile.

"Morning, shorty."

"Mmm-hmm."

He had just bent to kiss her again, when the door opened a crack. Lips still joined to each other's, they both looked up to see Tommy standing there, an amused look on her face and not a stitch on her body.

"So you're still here." She raised a brow. 

"Looks like it, Tom." Andy grinned.

Blue peeked under her blankets, then looked up at Tommy sleepily. "We're nakee." She said with a sleepy grin. Rubbing her nose under Andy's chin, she stretched, arching her body and singing tunelessly. "Everybody's nakee..."

"Let's have a look then..." Tommy grabbed the corner of the duvet, trying to yank it off with a mischievous grin. Andy yelled in dismay, yanking Blue in front of his body and keeping a secure grip on the blanket. "What?"

"You're not seeing that!" He protested.

"Why?"

"Cos its mine!"

"I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours." Tommy cajoled.

"Uh, Tommy…if you got one of them," Blue peered up at her roommate. "It must be a teeny weeny one…"

Andy looked her up and down. "Tommy, I can already see yours." The dancer looked down, then gave the blanket a sharp tug, yanking it away from his body. "TOMMY!"

"You've seen mine, so I'm going to see yours."

"Tommy, leavim." With Andy's arms and legs holding her close against his body, his chest pressing against her back, Blue waved her roommate back. Tommy pouted. "I'll take photos for you, oki?"

"You will not!"

"You want me to move?" Blue raised her eyes to him. Andy groaned. "Oki, Tommy, I'll get photos of my boy..."

Tommy wagged a finger. "No doctoring them. I want to see life-size images."

"Do they make normal photos that big?" Blue cocked her head. Tommy raised an eyebrow and Andy gave her a smug grin.

"Why is he so shy, if he's got that, then? Its not like I'm going to pounce on it." Tommy pointed out. "He's gonna get to see my girl naked, so why don't I see him naked, for the sake of argument? He's a dancer. He's not meant to be bloody shy."

Blue looked at her boyfriend. "I think you're going to have to show her, if you want her to go away." She said hopelessly.

"Damn straight." Tommy smirked smugly.

"All right already." Andy groaned, wriggling out from behind Blue and standing up to face off with the dancer. Hands on his hips, he raised his eyebrows, he cocked his head. "Are you quite happy now?"

Pointing at his crotch, Tommy doubled over with a shout of laughter. "I forgot how stupid those things always look!" She chortled. "Oh God...I needed a laugh to get me started this morning." Giving him an impish squeeze, she turned and walked out the door. "Thanks, Andy! I'm having a good day already!"

"Uh...what just happened?" Andy asked.

Standing up on the bed, Blue reached up to kiss him. "I don't think it matters, do you?"

"I guess not." He gave her a grin, which faded as a giggle of laughter rang through the door. He looked up to see both Sylvie and Tommy pointing and laughing. "One moment." He shut the door over. "Now, where were we?"

Pulling him back down amid the blankets with her, she pressed a kiss to his mouth. "Right about here." She purred.


	5. The Cast - Part 5 - Catch The Mouse

Her empty mug returned to the kitchen, the minuscule dancer returned to the activity she had been participating in. The machine was humming softly on the desk in front of the tall windows, cool sunlight stretching across the patterned pine.

Blue shuffled the handful of e-mail printouts together and glanced at the screen. Raymond had sent a ten-page e-mail of instructions for her and Tommy about what could and could not be said in front of Malcolm.

The petite dancer chuckled at some of the 'thou shalt' and 'thou shalt not' comments that were featured. Raymond certainly hadn't left any opening for error. "Hey, Tommy?" There was a yell from the bathroom. "What shall I do with Raymond's instruction manual?"

"Bin it!"

"What?"

"Chuck it!"

Blue gnawed her lip. "Um, are you sure that's a good idea?"

Tommy's head poked out of the bathroom, hair half-styled, make-up half-done. "Kid, I'm guessing that the big, sappy poof just wants to stop us from telling little Mal that he has a crush on him."

"Well, yeah."

"I'm telling Crow-face anyway, so what's the point of keeping the manual?"

"Tom, you can't tell Mal! Ray doesn't want him to know!"

Tommy grinned broadly. "That, my dear, is the point. I want them to stop making cow's eyes over each other and get down to the rampant snogging, before we have to resort to locking them in a room with no clothes on."

"Er…kinda like you and Andy did to me?"

"Precisely!" The older dancer grinned. "Now, little sister, I have to go and make myself beautiful. Finish what you're doing and be ready in five!"

"Yes, mum." Blue stuck her tongue out as Tommy regressed into the bathroom. Sitting down at the computer, she leaned back in her swivel seat and stared at the screen thoughtfully for several minutes. 

Flicking the mouse to the favourites list, she was surprised to see a folder titled "Lady Lawson" and clicked on it, curious. Another list appeared, this one headed by the title "A Loonies Convention Spot".

Blue raised an eyebrow. What on earth…?

Clicking on the link, it opened to some kind of Cats-orientated forum. Scanning down the list of names, she smothered a giggle. People gave themselves cat names? How cute! And what was this?

A link was pasted quickly and Blue shrieked with laughter at the sight of a fan in an attempt at make-up and a home made costume, which was recognisable as Rumpleteaser. Returning to the forum, she looked at a few more messages and quickly became aware that someone who was a cast member was posting there.

Tapping her chin thoughtfully, she frowned. Should she give them the thrill of having a 'new' Cast member on the forum? No question…

"Hi there," She spoke out loud, grinning at the letters, "I'm Blue and I work at the New London Theatre. A anonymous Swedish Munkuholic…" She paused, tapping her lip with a smooth, perfectly false nail, "Who has a smashing site suggested that London people should drop in some time…well, here I am…"

Frowning again, she rubbed her neck. Should say pretend to be friends with herself? Or was that getting a ridiculous? "Ridiculous." She grinned, deleting back to the 'Theatre'. "My whole life's story in one word."

Pondering for a minute, she started typing crazily and finally sat back with a satisfied grin on her face and read out loud.

"Hi there. I'm Blue and I work at the New London Theatre. I room with net-nut, Tommy, and have to fight her for the computer, but when I did finally catch the mouse (So to speak), I discovered the link to this place. If this is her territory, I'm delighted to say I'm invading it permanently and I have every right to!"

Glancing down at the list of names she had scribbled she gnawed on her lower lip thoughtfully. "Who am I? Who? Who? Who?"

Leaning on the desk, she tapped one-fingered 'Jet-Cet' and giggled softly. It was weird enough and was just as weirdly appropriate, considering her usual hyperactivity levels. With her index finger, she steered the cursor to the enter button and clicked.

"Kid! You ready to go?" Blue glanced over her shoulder at the black-haired dancer standing beside the open front door. Perfect eyebrows rose questioningly and received a bright grin in response. Tommy groaned. "Why, oh, why did I introduce you to the Internet?"

Blue logged off, grabbing her jacket as the computer wound down. "Coming!"

***

"Where's Ray?" Looking around the warm-up room, Malcolm gnawed on his lower lip, anxiety shining in his pale blue eyes. Tommy looked down at him in surprise. "Tom? Have you seen Ray about?"

"He didn't tell you?"

Nervous eyes looked up. "Tell me what?"

"He's on holiday back to America for two weeks." The young dancer stared at her, clearly bemused and startled by the revelation. "Didn't he tell you about going to his baby sister's graduation ceremony?"

A hurt look crossed Malcolm's thin face. "He mentioned it, but he didn't say that he was going to be going to it." Groping in his pockets, the actor-dancer dug out a crushed packet of cigarettes. "Scuse me."

Tommy watched, as the small dancer pushed through the doors of the warm-up area. He collided with Antoine and Jonny who were entering, both of them looking after the black- and red-haired dancer in surprise.

"What's up with Mal?" Jonny was the first to ask.

Antoine nodded. "He looked like he was going to cry, like he did that day he accidentally jabbed himself in the eye with his eye liner."

"Oh God…" Tommy gestured for them to continue with the warm-ups, hurrying in the direction that Malcolm had just departed in. She pushed through the doors and spotted Malcolm standing at one of the windows, staring out at the street. "Mal, you okay?"

"I can't believe he didn't tell me he was going." He muttered morosely, staring out through the murky glass.

Tommy wrapped her arms around the young Goth. "Hon," She said, her cheek pressing against his red- and black-streaked hair. "He's got your phone number, right?" Malcolm nodded. "I bet he'll call you as soon as he can."

"But he didn't tell me he was going." Malcolm repeated stubbornly. "I thought we were friends and he didn't tell me."

Tommy pursed her lips, straightening up. "I'm sure he had his reasons for not telling." She said, turning her friend around to face her. "What difference would it have made if he had told you?" Malcolm shrugged. "See."

"It woulda been nice to say bye to him."

"Maybe that's what was the problem."

He stared at her in confusion. "You what?"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed it."

"Uh…what?"

"Hon, Raymond has a crush on you." Blue eyes grew huge and blinked several times in clear bafflement. "You hadn't noticed?" Those same eyes remained huge as Malcolm shook his head. "How slow are you, Mal?"

Malcolm ran a hand through his hair. "Apparently very." He gave her a sheepish look. "Are you sure, Tom?"

"The way he looks at you?" Tommy flashed a broad grin at him, then her expression sobered somewhat. "Hon, I'm betting he didn't tell you he was going cos he couldn't face saying bye to you face-to-face."

"Seriously?"

"One hundred percent." She glanced back at the door. "Now, are we going to get in there and warm up, or what?"

"I really think that I prefer what, but if you insist…" Smiling faintly up at her, he accepted a hug, then allowed his long-time friend to steer him back through the doors and into the group warm-up that was already under way.

***

Lying on his back on the black leather sofa, Malcolm's right arm was resting over his eyes, his feet propped on the arm of the couch. A cigarette - unlit - dangled from the fingers of his left hand, which was resting on his bare chest. 

His scruffy duster was carelessly hanging over the back of one of the chairs at the two-person table. The television was on in the corner of the small living room, the sound muted so the heavy rock sounding from his hi-fi was clearly audible. Deafeningly so.

It was nearly five hours since Tommy's revelation that one of his best friends was in another country and had not bothered to inform him of that little fact before he left. He was certain his neighbours were probably knocking and yelling to shut up, but he didn't care.

A faint smile curled his thin lips upwards. It was time for heavy, brain-splitting music, too many cigarettes and a few too many glasses of an alcoholic drink with a Scottish name he couldn't pronounce.

The half-empty bottle sitting on the low, round coffee table beside the half-full ashtray spoke measures of how well his evening had been going. 

A ringing stirred him out of the numb boredom and he half-heartedly raised his arm from his bloodshot eyes.

"Sod off!" The hoarse shout was directed at the front door.

It was seven rings later that he became aware that it was the telephone ringing as opposed to the front door bell and he twisted to look at the coffee table beside him. His neon phone was lit up a dazzling green.

Malcolm groaned. "Just what I bloody need." He mumbled, rolling heavily onto his side and almost slipping right over into the gap between the table and sofa. A mumbled curse escaped him, his knee cracking off the edge of the table.

Rubbing his eyes as he steered himself upright, the young Goth deposited his cigarette on the table and groped for the receiver of the phone. Pushing his hair back from his face, he spat an obscene curse down the line at his late caller.

"Nice to hear you too, hon." A laughing voice spoke.

This time Malcolm did drop off the edge of the sofa, coming to rest with his elbows on the table. His hand groped for the remotes for the hi-fi and T.V., both of them skittering out of his reach. "R-Ray?"

"You betcha, sweet thing." There was a long pause, punctuated by a deep chuckle when Malcolm started swearing rudely at the two remotes for not working. "Hon, you know you got the worst taste in music I ever heard."

"Sod off, you big nancy! At least I don't like Abba and cheesy crap like that." Malcolm finally realised he had been trying to use the wrong remotes and knocked out the power to both the music and television.

"That, hun," Raymond chastised, amused. "Is quality music."

"And pink is a colour that should be worn by every poof in the nation?"

"Do you see us complaining, sweetie?" Both laughed slightly. "Have a good day?"

Malcolm ran a hand over his face. "Crud, Ray. I was so worried about you." He was startled to realise his voice was shaking. "Why didn't you tell me you were buggering off to your sister's graduation?"

"Cos I knew that you woulda wanted to tag along, Crow-boy." There was an audible waver in the black dancer's voice as well. "Couldn't have you ruinin' that lily white complexion of yours, could we, baby?"

"I am not lily-white, poof!"

"Hon, I've seen snow that ain't as white as you."

Malcolm smothered a grin. "That might be the case, my dear fellow," He mimicked the black man's deep, but strangely effeminate voice to perfection. "But I wouldn't have wanted to follow your cute little ass anywhere."

"You think my ass is cute, hon?"

"Did I…er…say that?" Malcolm felt his cheeks colouring and couldn't help grinning.

"You did, hun."

"Uh…"

"If it helps, hon, yours ain't so bad, either."

Malcolm suddenly remembered what Tommy had said. "Um…really?"

"What? No four letter words that my momma would wanna wash your mouth out for?"

One came to mind, but he hastily pushed it aside. "Never mind that, Ray." He mumbled quickly. "How are the family?"

"And do ya really wanna know, hon?" There was a shrewd pause, then Raymond silkily inquired. "Or are you just lyin' there, playin' with your nipple-ring and wonderin' when you can make me do all the talkin'?"

The young dancer sheepishly slipped the small, silvery ring from his fingertip, letting it fall back into place on his nipple. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He replied coolly, surprised that the brash dancer knew his gestures so well.

"Hon, you were too doin' that." He could visualise Raymond's broad grin. "You always do when you you're talkin' to someone and you ain't got too many layers of shirts between it and your skin."

Turning to lie back down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, Malcolm smiled. "You know, you watch me too much, Ray."

"I only watch if I like what I see, cutie."

"I don't do cute, Raymond."

Raymond's deep chuckle crackled down the line. "Keep tellin' yourself that, but remember that I'm the lucky ass who shares the dressin' room wit' you and sees that cutie patootie without all those black things you wear so much."

"I like black!"

"Oh really?" There was a husky note in the American's voice that Malcolm had never noticed before.

"Yeah, really."

"But y'all paints your lily face even whiter than it is and then add those stripes that make you look like a cute lil zebra, huh?" 

"Oh, go bonk a monk."

"Sorry, cutie, those cossacks don't do nothin' for me."

Malcolm sniggered. "I think you mean cassocks. Cossacks are Russians."

"They are? Oh…right…well, Russians and monks. They ain't my type."

"And what is your type?"

"O positive." Malcolm muffled a snort of laughter. "So, my adorable lil white boy-wit'-stripes-on-his-cutie-face, still wantin' me to tell ya?"

The Brit blinked at the ceiling in confusion. "Uh, what?"

"Still want me to fill y'all in on my mad family?"

"If it'll keep me awake, you bet." Malcolm heard the black dancer's rumbling laugh. "So spill, Ray. I'm already falling asleep here."

"Unconscious more like."

"Well, that too. You better tell me something really interesting to keep me talking."

There was a pause of about two seconds, then Raymond launched into a speech. "Well, y'all know my Aunt Terasha? Well, she went to this health spa place, and buddy, oo-ey! Did that girlfriend need all the help she could get! I'm tellin' you, man, she has got an ass that would hide the whole damn cast if she wanted it to, but anyways, I was sayin' that she went to this spa to lose some of that…"

Malcolm replaced his arm over his eyes, grinning. Now, he remembered just why he liked talking to Raymond so much. It gave him the chance to do what he much preferred in a conversation: stay silent and listen.

***

"So you're our online geek, huh?" Georgina's grin was visible down the phone line. "I can't believe you're such a nerd, Blue!"

Blue pulled a face. "I'm not a nerd!"

"You're the one who hasn't stopped talking about all the cool web sites you've found for the last twenty minutes." The red-haired dancer said between fitful giggles. "Now tell me that doesn't make you a geek."

"If I was a proper Internet geek, I wouldn't be so excited about sites when I'm just getting started!" Blue protested vehemently.

Georgina sniggered again. "Tell me you're not wearing your glasses and your pyjamas and you haven't been at the computer since you got up this morning. I _might _believe you." There was a lingering pause, as the blue-haired dancer looked down at her boyfriend's overlong T-shirt and pushed her glasses up her nose. "Well?"

"Well…I'm not wearing PJ's."

Both girls dissolved into giggles. "What's so funny?" Andy inquired from the kitchen, leaning around the bar counter to peer at his girlfriend. "Huh…I wondered where my T-shirt had gone." Creeping up behind Blue, he snatched the phone. "Georgie, never stay here, girl! You go for a shower and the residents nick your clothes!"

"Don't flatter yourself." The naked Tommy drifted passed in the direction of the bathroom, rubbing her eyes and yawning. "And what did I tell you about inviting strange men to spend the night, Blue? They always leave a mess on the couch."

Snatching the phone back, Blue shot a mock-glare in Tommy's direction. "Pay no attention to her." She grumbled, pushing Andy away with her foot. "He was watching a movie here for your information!" She added as a yell in the direction of the bathroom.

"Yah, right! Both Tommy and Georgina chorused. Andy, on his knees in front of her, smirked and ran a hand up her thigh.

"That's it." Blue turned away from Andy and tapped loudly on her keyboard. "I'm going now, George. I don't like you no more. You're mean and nasty to me!" Georgina chuckled loudly. "You don't believe me?"

"Not one bit." She could visualise Georgina's wide grin "See ya tomorrow, psycho."

The red head hung up and Blue tossed the phone back onto the desk. She launched herself into Andy's arms, thumping across the head with an over-stuffed pillow. "I'm…going…to… kill…you!"

"Not before tonight's show." He murmured, kissing her on the nose, easily wrestling the pillow out of her grip and bopping her on the head with it. "You can be as violently hyper as you want afterwards though."

"You wish." She purred, pulling his hair. Snatching up a piece of toast, she sat down to read the forum again. 

Blue was easily one of the most regular visitors on the forum, with perpetual patience for people and their questions that drove her horny boyfriend to distraction. More often than not, he would be forced to carry her away from the computer. She was only surpassed by several of the Broadway cast members who seemed to practically live online. 

"Will you hurry up?" Andy was tying his boots as she started typing a reply to a post about the London production. "You can type that after the show. We're gonna be late again. And you know what everyone will think."

Swivelling around in her spinning seat, she scooted it across the floor and draped her arms lazily around his neck. "Let them think." She whispered. "They'll never imagine just how right they are."

"You have a great way of thinking." He murmured silkily, rubbing his forehead against hers, "But we're still going to be late for the show and I need to straighten my mane up for you tonight." He pretended to give his mane a shake. "Norm's ankle is still playing up, so I'm in for Tugger for a week."

"Cocky git." She grinned, standing up. "I suppose we should go."

***

In position near the Orchestra entrance, Malcolm shook each foot in turn, loosening his ankles. On stage, he could see Kashka slinking towards the front of the stage and blew out a breath. The car headlights flashed over her and she hissed.

"Here we go." The small actor muttered, cricking his neck. Several figures were creeping smoothly onto the stage.

"Are you blind when you're born?" That was Robbie.

Kashka popped back into his line of sight and he edged forwards, towards the back row of the moving platform. "Can you see in the dark?"

"Dare you look at a King?" Antoine emerged on the pipe above him.

Malcolm bent close to the person in the last seat of the row. They were oblivious until he rubbed his wig against their hair. "Would you sit on his throne?" It could only be John.

"Can you say of your bite that it's worse than your bark?" Andy was on for Norman.

Bending over the seat in front of him, he stared squarely into the face of a startled teenage girl and smacked his lips. "Are you cock of the walk?"

"Holy shit!"

Everyone within ten feet of Mistoffelees heard the expletive escape him, as his head jerked up, eyes coming to rest on a huge figure standing – black and white – on top of the car trunk, one leg poised slightly in front of the other.

Malcolm could feel his face burning under the make-up, several audience members gawping at him. Skimbleshanks was trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin behind his warmer and Alonzo turned and flashed a lazy grin in his direction.

"But he's not meant to be back yet!" The young dancer mumbled, backing away and bumping squarely into Blue. She grinned at him, swinging into the steps along the aisle beside him. A swing was on as Etcetera, while she was playing Rumpleteaser.

Malcolm shot a glare at her, receiving a pout in response, before he ran up onto the stage. Blue followed, still grinning like a Cheshire Cat. 

He and Raymond had been talking on the phone for hours every single night for the last two weeks since the dancer had headed home, but the American had said nothing about returning on this day, at this time for this show!

On stage, Raymond swung passed, receiving a sharp swat on the rear from Malcolm. He winked at the smaller dancer, wiggling his rump. Reluctantly, Malcolm couldn't help grinning at the huge American dancer.

Coming to a halt practically back-to-back for the Invitation, Malcolm rocked back on his heels and felt his back graze lightly against someone taller than him. Biting the inside of his lip, he cast a furtive glance over his shoulder and decided his legs had turned to jelly at the expression in his friend's dark eyes.

The taller man reached over and gave the young Goth's hand a squeeze, tingles of electricity shooting between them. Releasing each other's fingers, they scattered around the stage as Robbie began the introduction of the Gumbie Cat.

Alonzo was already settled on his knees at the oven-side of the stage, when Mistoffelees spun to his knees beside the other black and white. Feigning interest in Jennyanydots, Malcolm nudged Raymond's immense thigh with his knuckles.

He got no response.

He prodded a little harder, frowning.

Raymond yawned, stretching out on his belly, his back to his younger companion. His tail lolled on the stage close to Malcolm's knees.

Huffily, Malcolm slapped the Alonzo tail, clapping a hand to his mouth as the force lifted it, hard and fast. The hefty tail thumped Raymond on the top of his head and he jerked onto his knees, spinning and looking for his unseen assailant, rubbing his head with a hurt expression.

Malcolm edged forwards, cocking his head. Raymond gestured at his tail, then at his head and looked as if he were ready to burst into tears. Malcolm felt his heart jolt and suddenly wanted to hug the huge dancer.

Wagging a reprimanding finger at the front row, Mistoffelees rose on his knees to check Alonzo's topknot. Sticking his nose right into the bristly mass, he nuzzled the wig and felt Raymond's hands kneading his thigh.

Huffing a sneeze, Malcolm bobbed back down, only to realise what a precarious position he was in. His thighs were straddling one of Raymond's and that single muscular appendage of the American's was rubbing rather intimately against him.

Leaning forward and pretending to smooth Mistoffelees' shoulder fur, Raymond caught Malcolm's tail from beside his thigh and carefully positioned it over his crotch, a naughty gleam in his eyes.

The American turned away to watch the ongoing routine, glancing back over his shoulder with such a sultry look that it took Malcolm's already-absent breath even further away. The younger of the two whimpered audibly when Raymond leapt to his feet and raced off-stage to grab his beetle costume.

Scrambling to his feet, Mistoffelees ran off-stage with Jellylorum, Demeter and Bombalurina, the actor concentrating desperately on the least sexy thing his mind could come up with on the spur of the moment: tripe and liver.

Unfortunately, somehow, the mental image of Raymond up to his neck in it still made it seem frighteningly sexy. Mentally shoving Raymond out of the picture, Malcolm caught Tommy eyeing him with clear amusement, a smirk on her lips.

"Got someone on your mind?" She asked with exaggerated sweetness, as they headed for the door of the auditorium.

Flicking the finger at her, Malcolm scowled at the red cat, only receiving a more devilish grin from her. The thing he hated most was the fact that she, as always, was right.

Dancing onstage for the finale of 'The Gumbie Cat', the young dancer received a blinding grin from Alonzo and almost messed up his steps for the first time. Bombalurina sniggered and was given a generous kick up the bum, when Mistoffelees thought no one was looking.

***

Running off, after the Ball, Raymond was trotting towards the door when a hand latched onto his wrist and he was physically whipped around to find Malcolm standing right behind him. "Oh, hey, Ma..."

The taller dancer's words were cut off, when Malcolm pulled his face down and kissed him fiercely on the lips.

"Oh!" Antoine and Blue stopped short. "Sorry...er...guys?" Raymond's immense arms had wrapped around Malcolm's smaller, leaner body, his hands splayed on the black-clad dancer's rear, holding him tightly against his own body.

The smaller dancer's fingers pressing against Raymond's wiry wig, one arm around Raymond's neck, his palm spread on the black dancer's shoulder.

"Want me to kick 'em?" Blue inquired.

Several audience members were starting to peer around the edge of the seating barrier to see what the fuss was about, so Antoine hastily stepped into their line of sight, pulling the grinning Blue with him.

"Guys!" He hissed over his shoulder. "Get a friggin' room!"

Behind him, he heard a giggle from Raymond, then the squeak of the door and pattering footsteps, which signalled that it was safe to move without any audience members seeing Mistoffelees frenching Alonzo as if there was no tomorrow.

***

"What are you lurking out here for?" Tommy looked down at Malcolm, who was sitting on the stairs, twisting a cigarette between his fingers. "Didn't you notice that your favourite big old poof is back?"

Blue eyes rose to her. "I just kissed him, Tom." The little Goth mumbled.

"You what?"

"Um…" An unmistakable, but somewhat shy grin crossed Malcolm's lips. "I grabbed him and planted one on him."

"You're kidding!" The black-garbed dancer shook his head, looking back at the cigarette that was crumbling between his fingers. "Which begs the question, if you kissed him and he didn't knock you for six, why are you sitting out here?"

Withdrawing another cigarette out of his packet and lighting up, Malcolm inhaled a rapid drag and blew a plume of smoke. "I'm not used to this." He replied quietly. "I don't know how the relationship thing goes."

"Well, that's cos your parents are both insane hippies, who run around the country in a camper van and sing stupid songs by a campfire in the middle of Tesco's car park and don't bother telling you what's seen as normal." Coming to sit beside him, Tommy snatched the cigarette from his lips, taking a drag, then handed it back. "Here's the way things work now. You like someone. They like you back. You get together and make with the smoochies. Are we clear?"

"You think?"

"Hon, I know." Wrapping and arm around his shoulders, she gave him a squeeze. "You like the big poofter, don't you?" Malcolm nodded. "Well, go in there and tell him, so he doesn't think you're avoiding him."

Reluctantly, the young dancer got to his feet. "But what if I mess up?"

"You'll never know if you don't try, Mal." Tommy gave his rear a comforting tweak. "If you don't go and do what you want to do, I'll get the boys to drag you through there and do the asking for you."

"And knowing you, you would too." Letting her enter first, he spotted Raymond watching for him and drew a breath. "Okay…I'm going to do it."

Remaining by the door, Tommy watched as Malcolm made his way across the Raymond, staring down at his feet. Apparently he said the right thing, because he received a broad smile and hug from the huge dancer.

Sitting down on the arm of the American's seat, Malcolm glanced over at Tommy and gave her the thumb's up, before turning back to Raymond. The American gave the Goth's thigh a fond squeeze, both of them talking in low voices.

***

Laughing out loud, Blue's fingers started to dance on the keyboard, her various instant message windows blinking along the bottom of the screen. The current chat victim was giving her all manner of information she had never known about CATS.

Pushing her glasses up her nose, she shifted on the cushion on the seat. If there was one thing she adored, it was spending insane amounts of time online, finding out about fans of the show that was her favourite job.

If there was another thing she adored, he was currently in the bathroom, trying to wake himself up.

Clicking on the link that her chat-buddy had sent her, she couldn't help laughing at the bizarre picture that blinked up. Some kind of Mistoffelees peered up at her from beneath neat brows, looking like he was trying for the world to be a mean mother...

"Mal would love that guy." She remarked to herself, typing to demand who the guy was. The make-up style was definitely not of the London variety.

Behind her, she heard the bathroom door open and an exaggerated yawn from her boyfriend as he exited the small bathroom. "Whatcha up to, short stuff?"

Not turning, her fingers beating rapidly on the keys, she grinned. "I'm chatting with a guy in America somewhere." She replied, pausing to flick through the other conversations that she was having. Nothing interesting seemed to be happening.

"Oh?"

She nodded, quickly asking for the young man's web page address again. Clicking on the link, she opened the page. "Wait until you see this...it's SO cool!" The page loaded rapidly and she opened the character pages.

"Hmm..." She felt Andy move behind her. His chin came to rest on the top of her head and she could feel his wet hair dripping on her dressing-gown covered shoulders. "Hey! Where did he get a picture of me from?"

"No clue, big guy." Asking of the American, she continued to flip through various galleries and pictures. "He's got some really cool pictures from the Broadway cast as well and I think I have some pictures I could send him."

He nodded, his chin jogging her head up and down in unison. "And he's from America?"

"Yeah. He told me there's a lot of CATS fans out there." Moving the mouse towards the links page, she pointed and clicked. "Annie and Maria both have their pages up here." She tried not to shiver as his warm breath met with the drops of water that were running down her face from his hair. "Wanna see?"

"Okay." He exhaled a long breath, shifting his head briefly to her shoulder, his eyes fixed on the screen. The sites popped up in other windows and Blue searched for the art galleries and heard Andy's gasp of surprise as Maria's art came into plain sight. "Whoa..."

"That's what I thought." She grinned, eeping as he dropped his chin back on top of her head and stared fixedly at the screen. "Wanna see a cute Munk?" He made no response, so the Munkustrap who was clearly his predecessor was brought up. "Pretty, huh?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Blue gnawed her lip for a long moment. "I was thinking..." She clicked to the commissions page and gestured to the prices. "It's Tommy's birthday soon and we could get a portrait done for her..."

Andy shifted and the scent of his aftershave washed over her, a very masculine scent. She shivered, tapping the keys quickly in response to a comment from the young American she was talking to. "Sounds good." He replied.

There was a long silence, broken only broken by the steady tap-tap-tap of her fingers.

Finally, she lifted her eyes to his chin. "Andy?"

"Hmm?"

"What's that smell?"

He sniffed. "Oh. That. Just the new Calvin Klein thing." He shifted to look down at her, chin still on her head. "You like it?"

"Uh...yeah..." She inhaled another deep breath of the scent and half-grinned, turning back to the keyboard. "It's...kinda distracting."

He chuckled huskily. "That so?"

Spinning her chair around to glare at him, she stopped short at the sight that greeted her, the pen gripped in one hand abruptly slipping from nerveless fingers. Laying his hands on the arms of her chair, he grinned down at her innocently.

Finding her voice, she cleared her throat, blinking back at him. "Uh...very distracting..." Her pale blue eyes moved from his face, down his smooth, toned, muscular body. His very naked and wet body.

"I couldn't find a towel." He purred softly, gazing at her from behind damp strands of long, dark hair. 

"You...uh...you're dripping on the floor..."

He looked down, then back at her with a suggestion of an enigmatic smile. "So I am." He straightened up, raising both his hands to push his hair back from his face. Blue's already gaping jaw gaped that little bit more. "Don't you have a conversation to...finish...?"

"Uh..." Turning half away from him, glancing back, she managed to reply. "Yeah." Her eyes drifted from the screen, littering the message with typos, as her boyfriend leaned closer, his hands moving to rest where they had moments before, on the arms of the chair.

His face moved alongside hers as she tried to type. "So..." His voice was low in her ear, as she looked frantically for the keys she had been so familiar with moments earlier. "How long are you going to be?" His warm cheek brushed against hers, as he peered at the screen.

"Just finishing..."

"Sorry, Carb, gotta go." He read from the message box, chuckling softly in her ear. "A little something just...came up." Tutting in mock indignation, he touched his lips to her neck in a burning kiss. "A little something, love?"

"Stoppit..." She tried to protest loudly, but it came out as more of a whimper, the mouse skidding all over the screen as he moved up her neck.

"Nah..." He murmured huskily, catching her lips with his. One hand slid to his skull, pulling him down to her, fingers winding through his dark hair.

A whirring click sounded and they pulled away from each other, panting. "I have to turn it off now." Blue whispered, her hand lingering on his shoulder.

"Make sure that's all you do." He gave her a promising smile and pulled away, walking towards her bedroom.

Even from the back he looked gorgeous.

His hair hung between his shoulderblades, his shoulders broad and muscled. A perfect valley ran down the centre of his back, tapering between narrow hips above those perfectly round and neat buttocks. He glanced over his shoulder and winked at her,

Blinking after him, Blue smacked the off-key, threw her glasses on the desk and hurtled after him as fast as her little legs could carry her.


	6. The Cast - Part 6 - Memories

The phone lit up. A terrible version of 'Memory' warbled from it. A hand fumbled out from beneath some bed covers and claimed the mobile, bringing it to a sleepy-looking head. With one thumb, Andy received the call.

"Hmm?"

"Andy?"

Sitting up in his bed, his Jungle Book covers twisted until they hung half off the bed, Andy yawned and ran his fingers through his hair. He glanced at the clock sitting on the bedside table. Nine o'clock. That was early. "Yup? That you, shorty?"

"Who else would it be, calling you up at this time of the day, you bloody twit?!" The shrill annoyance in his girlfriend's voice made his brow wrinkle in puzzlement. "Where the hell are you? Why aren't you here?"

One green and one brown eye widened in sudden panic. Where was he meant to be? Did they have a date? Or a doctors appointment? Or a shopping spree? "Uh, Blue... will I be in trouble if I tell you I have no idea what you're talking about?"

"Well, I don't think the management are going to be too pleased about it." The voice on the other end of the phone replied snippily. "You're late already and several people are ready to kick your arse if you're not here within an hour."

"But there's no show 'til tonight." Despite his calm tone as he spoke, the brunette dancer was frantically rooting through his desk, trying to find his diary. Of course, he wrote down everything he had to do, so he wouldn't forget.

Unfortunately, he tended to forget just *where* he left that diary.

"Of course there's no show 'til tonight, dumbie." He could picture a half-smile creeping onto her lips. She knew how bad his memory was when it came to out-of-work hours. True, he could play a dozen Cats flawlessly, but give him a date and it went in one ear and out the other. "The diary is under your clothes on the chair in the corner."

He lunged for the chair and found - to his non-surprise - that she was right.

"You're meant to be in for rehearsals." She noted politely, the second he found the right page of the book and uttered an expletive or two. "Antoine wants to kick you from here to Dover and he's actually in a good mood today."

Holding his phone against his ear with his shoulder, he hauled on a pair of boxer shorts and raked around for his trousers. "You could have..."

"Reminded you? Look at your desk and mirror." He did so and found notes with the word 'REHEARSAL' scrawled in bold capitals. "Check your alarm clock." It was set for seven. He groaned, recalling hitting it with a pillow several hours earlier. "See how many messages are on your phone."

"But you didn't say it!" There was a yelp as Andy's foot made contact with the leg of his chair, his toe stubbed painfully.

Blue chuckled. "You don't remember any of our conversation on the phone last night?" Andy muttered a curse under his breath. "Try the bottom drawer." She suggested, then waited.

"How did you know I was looking for my socks?" The mattress of the bed squeaked, as he sat down to pull the socks on.

"You have a pattern of getting dressed, lover. I was timing you and it seemed about the time for socks." There was a muted laugh. "Anyway, you can't say I didn't tell you about today. You spent half of our conversation actually telling me what and who you were playing in the rehearsals."

"Uh...I...er..." Groping under his bed and snatching his dance bag, he sat up. "Would you say that 'I forgot' is a good excuse?"

"If you want to butter me up, you're going to have to do a lot better than that." 

Snatching his jacket and hauling it on, he swung his bag onto his shoulder. "What about if I said you sounded so wonderful, I was enraptured and couldn't help daydreaming about having you snuggling up in my arms?"

"I'd say that was a little more like it. Your front door key is on the kitchen bench, next to the kettle. The back door key is on the living room table." There was a pause, as she waited for him to lock up the back and the bang of the front door as he tugged it shut.

"You know, Shorty, you know me far too well."

"If I really did, I would have phoned you at six am to give you a warning that we were in." He laughed as he turned the key in the lock. "Looks like I have to work on it a bit more, but give me time, big guy."

"You have all the time you need and you know it." Ignoring the blaring horns and traffic of late commuters, he dived across the road, using his favoured lemming technique of hurling himself in front of moving cars to guarantee they would stop moving and let him pass.

"I gotta go, Andy. Antoine's calling the rehearsal to session." There was a pause as she called to someone on the other end. "He says you better be in bloody good form or he'll show you what it is to suffer the wrath of Twang."

Andy chuckled. "Can't help thinking Khan sounds much better there. Tell him I'm always in bloody good form. I'm just delaying him the privilege of seeing it." Antoine's loud, irritated swearing carried above the sound of the other cast members and Andy flinched. "All right, see you soon, love."

"You too, big guy."

***

"I've got news, guys!"

In the middle of the rehearsal, the music had come to an abrupt stop. Already fuming, Antoine had swung around to see Cassie Maynard, the twenty-six year old Victoria, standing beside the CD player, a blinding grin on her face.

"What now?" The bleach-blond snapped.

The blonde haired girl bounced over to him and pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks. "Sorry I'm late, Antoine. I was at the doctor's." She spun in a circle, hugging herself happily. "Rory and I...we're going to have a baby!" 

"You're WHAT!?!"

Yanking the bottom of her T-shirt up, the dancer revealed the slight swell of her belly. "I'm five months gone already and I didn't even realise." It was no secret that she and her husband had been trying for a baby for nearly seven years and had only just given up the IVF treatment.

"Oh my God!" Raymond howled in delight, both hands at to his face. "Oh, sweetie! That's great news!" He bounded over to hug her, hauling her off his feet. "Hon, I won't be able to rub you all up now, what with you being a momma."

"I won't complain, Ray." She laughed, returning his hug.

"You're not joking, are you?" Antoine looked from the young woman's shining face to her slightly distended belly and back again. She shook her head, smiling broadly between hugs from her friends. "Cassie, congratulations." 

"Thanks!" She squealed in surprise as Benjamin - Old Deuteronomy - bent and picked her up, hugging her. "Benji! You've got cold hands!"

Only the dance captain seemed aware of a problem rising from the happy occasion, his eyes roaming the swings that were gathering around the pregnant dancer, chattering happily and asking questions.

"Any idea when you'll need to go on maternity leave, Cass? And do you plan to come back?"

A silence fell in the moments following Antoine's quietly spoken words. Cassie tossed her hair back and straightened up. 

"I don't know, Antoine." She replied quietly. "I'm hoping I can go as soon as I can. You know how many times I've been through this." She spread her hands on her stomach. "I don't want to risk this baby just to keep dancing for a few weeks."

During her IVF treatment, she had miscarried five times out of seven attempts prior to her arrival in Cats. Each time, the fetus had reached the three-month stage, but had never gone further. For it to be at five months was a huge leap forward.

The dance captain nodded and crossed the floor towards Cassie. She and Antoine had been friends for years and she could see the concern in his eyes, as he took her hands in his and looked her over. "You feeling okay?"

"Perfect." She nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Antoine gestured for the others to continue rehearsing. "Can we talk outside, Cass?" She nodded, letting him take her arm. The moment they stepped through the door, he pulled her into his arms ad hugged her fiercely. "Well done." He whispered.

"Thanks, Tone." She returned the hug. When they broke apart, both of them had tears in their eyes. "You're going to have to return my favour, you know. If this goes all the way, you're my first in line."

He nodded, brushing her gold hair back from her face. "As soon as we can get you out of here, you're officially on maternity leave." He pressed a kiss to her brow. "I'm not having you go through what happened last time."

"Its nothing like it was last time." She took his hand and placed it on her belly. "I'm not going to let this baby go without a fight. The doctor says he's healthy and that there's only the smallest chance of something going wrong."

"Comforting." The bleach blond muttered sourly. He met Cassie's grey eyes. "You're still having as much time off as we can give you, even if I have to fire you. I'm not letting you go through another still-birth because you refuse to stop working."

"There's no proof that my dancing had anything to do with it." She said softly, "The stress, maybe, but never the dancing."

"You think its relaxing here?" He couldn't help chuckling. "I'm ready to tear my hair out already and you know that takes a lot." He hugged her again tightly. "Go and see the management as soon as you can. Explain everything and tell them that I want you off as soon as possible." He gave her a wry smile. "You never know. They might listen."

"But we've just had a cast change...do you think they'll let me?"

"They better. If not, screw them." He pressed his hand on her smooth belly again. "I want to meet my god-son and I'm not about to let a bunch of suit-wearing gits dictate whether you lose him or not, because they're to greedy too let you go."

"And have you spoken to them like this?" Cassie gave him a watery smile.

Antoine snorted. "Do I look that stupid to...er...never mind." He gently touched his mouth to hers in a fond kiss. "Go and see them, Cass. I've got to get back to rehearsal. Someone has to try and keep some semblance of control." She gave him a skeptical look. "Why do you think I said 'try'?" He grinned weakly, before stepping back into the rehearsal room.

***

"Excuse me! Passing through!" His rucksack held high above his head, his ticket gripped in his fist, Andy wove his way through the crowds trying to reach the right tube platform. After fifteen minutes on a five-minute train journey, he was starting to see Antoine advancing on him with a very large meat cleaver and a homicidal look in his eye.

Using the handrail, he swung around people, clambering his way down the long escalator in a way that seemed practically suicidal to anything but a monkey.

Maneuvering under the arms of a mother trying to steer her pram off the step, he paused to lift it down for her, then darted towards the platform, uttering a loud and proficient curse as his train pulled away.

Grinning apologetically at an American tourist and her young children, he ran a hand through his hair and looked around. "Crappity crap!" He dodged along the bustling platform, trying to reach the sign that would tell him when the next train was.

As if on cue, a train rattled down the line, the doors hissing open. Racing to the fore of the platform, Andy threw himself into the carriage, grateful that there weren't too many people there to hear him calling the rail system a series of exceptionally rude names.

Glancing at his watch, he started bouncing on his toes.

It seemed like an eternity before the doors buzzed shut and the train started to move into the dark tunnels of the London underground. 

Barely seconds had passed when the train slowed, in the middle of the tunnel.

"NO!" Andy howled in outrage.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen." A voice crackled over the sound system. "We would like to apologise for this temporary delay, but we are experiencing technical difficulties on the Piccadilly line. We should continue on track in several minutes. We would like to thank you for your patience in this matter."

"Patience? PATIENCE!?" Andy yelled at the speaker in the side of the carriage. "You gits! You're doing this on purpose!" Throwing his bag down, he pushed both hands through his hair, blowing out a breath. "Crud...Twang'll kill me...I'll totally miss the warm ups and..." A curious look crossed the dancer's face. "Unless..."

The other commuters - who had been trying unsuccessfully to ignore him - raised their papers and hid behind them, hoping that the strange, shouting madman might just be a figment of their overheated imaginations.

Unfortunately, the sound of someone ripping off items of clothing proved a little to intriguing for most of them to ignore.

Andy had removed his jacket, shoes and socks in rapid succession. Peeling his T-shirt off, he adjusted the waistband of his tracksuit bottoms, shaking his feet to loosen up his ankles before he started.

Baffled travelers watched as the young, half-naked man started a series of stretches and flexes, his torso's muscles rippling under the yellow-white glow of the dim lights along the roof of the carriage.

Spreading his feet length-ways along to aisle, Andy went through the pattern of warm-ups for stirring the muscles, then jogged from one end of the carriage to the other, several times. His long hair bobbed on his broad shoulders, a light sheen of sweat gleaming on his bare skin.

"Sorry about this." He said aloud, as he slid down into the splits in the centre aisle, giving several wincing businessmen rueful smiles. "I'm late for work." Leaning forward, he stretched to touch his foot, then rotated from his hips and touched the other foot. 

One of the men pointedly crossed his legs. "Would you mind not doing...that." He gestured to the pose, a pained look on his face.

Going into the straddle splits, Andy looked down guiltily. "Oops! Forgot some guys find this painful to watch." He twisted again. "Don't you just hate the underground?" He addressed a young woman in a suit with a briefcase. She nodded mutely, gaping at his chest and his upper arms, as he straightened his arms, lifting his body of the ground and whipping one leg underneath him to bring it alongside the other.

Beneath them, the carriage shuddered back to life and the tracks squeaked as the train started on its ungainly way once again. Andy blew out of a sigh of relief, his body warmed up and honed, ready to join the rehearsals at work as soon as he got off the tube.

Arching his back, he back-flipped from the seated position, using his hands as leverage and landed neatly on his feet, hurrying back to his shoes and clothing.

Without bother about his socks of shirt, he hastily shoved on his shoes and jacket, thrusting his socks and T-shirt into the rucksack as the train came to a halt in the station. "Sorry about that again." He called, as he ran out of the open doors.

Unsurprisingly, there was no reply from the still-gaping passengers.

***

"Sorry...late...bad of me...nasty tube..." Panting, after running up the stairs from the tube stations and racing through the surprisingly busy streets near Covent Garden, Andy stumbled into the rehearsal room and found Antoine standing in front of him, arms folded sternly.

On the plus side, there was no meat cleaver.

The homicidal look, however, was looming.

"Get warmed up."

"Done."

Antoine did a double take. "Excuse me?"

"Warmed up...on tube...stuck in tunnel..." Gratefully accepting a tumbler of water from his girlfriend, Andy swallowed it down, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I got bored and warmed up."

The bleach-blonde dance captain suspiciously narrowed his eyes. "On the tube?" he repeated skeptically.

"Well, he does look sorta sweaty and half-dressed." Blue commented. "Who is he to be just now, Twang? It's Skimble, isn't it?"

"Oh goodie. The train cat." Andy groaned. "Someone up there likes using me as a big and freaky joke, I swear." Shaking his shoes off and depositing them against the wall with his jacket and rucksack, he pulled on his dance shoes. "Let's get on with it."

***

After the reassigning of some characters to several of the swings in the wake of some departures from the cast and the general reshuffle and tidy up, many of the swings and main understudies were experimenting with their new character make-ups before they had to get ready for the show.

In addition to already covering Admetus, Alonzo, Skimbleshanks and Tugger, Andy had found himself being gifted with several more roles, in case of dire emergencies. Two male swings had left at short notice and replacements had not been found in time to keep all the characters covered.

He had also had to deal with Tommy's bout of painful hysterics when she heard that he was dibbed as both a very tall Mungojerrie and Mistoffelees understudy, in case of most extreme desperation.

However, he was safe in the knowledge that he would never have to play them, unless pretty much every swing and understudy was off when Jonny or Malcolm were, which was never likely to happen. 

Tommy had been proudly upgraded to first Grizabella understudy, but Helen had adamantly said that she would never, ever let the striking actress take her role. In addition to that arrogant pronouncement, she had stuck her tongue out and proceeded to wave her rear in Tommy's direction, calling something along the lines of "kiss it!".

Unfortunately for Helen, Tommy had done just that.

Blue and her flatmate were still laughing as they emerged out of the lift, just inside the stage door. Both of them had been ordered to collect junkfood from the MacDonald's around the corner, five minutes from the theatre.

"Afternoon ladies." Sitting back in his chair, his feet propped on the desk in front of him, Leo mock-saluted the pair as they approached to sign out. The half-Jamaican former dancer was one of their favourites at the stage door and he knew it. "How's it going?"

"Well, if you would shift your arse and come and see..." Tommy leaned over the desk and smiled provocatively at him. "You'd probably enjoy it."

"When I have a perfectly good telly in here?" The dark-skinned man grinned, flashing a perfect set of white teeth at her. "Nah. Sounds too much like hard work."

"A good telly?" Blue hopped up to lean over the desk and stared in the round mirror, trying to avoid peering through Leo's waist-length dreadlocks. "It looks very pink from here." She gave Leo a suspicious look. "Unless you're trying to tell us something...you...pink...are you that way inclined and about to break my ickle heart, Leo?"

Brown eyes twinkled. "Now, would I want to ruin the surprise for you, Blue?" He inquired. He leaned back in the seat and looked into the mail rack that was fastened to the wall. "You had a visitor earlier...or at least, he was looking for someone with a similar name."

"Oh? Did he leave a message?"

"Nah. He just took a look at the list and left." Reaching up to the 'B' section of the rack, he withdrew a handful of envelopes and flicked through them. "Probably just a fan or something like that." Picking a thick package from the pile of mail, Leo looked up at the older dancer. "You got a little something, Tom."

Catching it, the black-haired woman tilted it. "Oh! I know what this is!" She gave her roommate a pointed look and Blue rolled her eyes.

"I think that means I'm waiting outside so I don't see what she got me for my birthday." The smaller dancer remarked dryly. "See you later, Leo." He gave her a grin. "Sure you don't want some kind of junkfood?"

"I think I can live without it." He replied.

The door buzzed and she pushed it open, stepping out onto the pavement. The familiar smell of the nearby parking area and the scent that lingered from the nearby smoke ducts drew a smile from her as the door clicked shut behind her.

Like every other place she had been, the back of the New London Theatre had a familiar, comforting and unmistakable odour. It wasn't exactly a nice smell, but it was still something she could associate with the building.

Sheets of summer sunlight spread over the roof, casting a warming light down at the pathway behind the theatre. Grateful for her cut-off shorts and T-shirt, Blue spun in a giddy circle, the light rippling over her pale skin.

Approaching the fence that blocked the pavement from the road, she easily hopped up onto the four-inch-wide level and carefully balanced herself. Extending her arms, she started to walk along the narrow surface, occasionally using the wide pillars that stood at intervals along the fence to support herself.

Bouncing off the fence between the second last and last pillar, she landed lightly on her feet and came to rest with her back against the second last column, while she waited for Tommy to exit the building.

Her arms crossed, her fingertips drummed an impatient rhythm on her bare upper arms. She was oblivious to the figure standing several paces behind her until he spoke, quietly.

"Hello little Sara."

Blue jerked upright, rooted to the spot. Every instinct in her body told her to run, but her feet seemed to belong to someone else and they turned her slowly around to face the owner of the voice. "S-Sean?"

A calm smile turned up the familiar lips, but it didn't reach the pale blue eyes that gazed coldly from beneath sandy blond brows. "You gave your mum quite a scare, running off like that." He took a step towards her. "I've been looking all over for you and now look at the state of you when I find you..." He tutted in disgust. "Look at what you've done to yourself, little one."

One callused hand rose, touching her cropped hair with deceptiveness. She flinched, remember the last time his hand had touched her hair, her once prized, waist-length, white blonde mane. She remembered the agonising sensation of it tearing from her scalp, twined around his fingers.

"Leave me alone." She whispered, her mouth bone dry, mentally screaming for help. She felt her eyes prickling and drew a shaking breath, trying to convince her feet to back-pedal.

"What's this?" Mock-shock crossed his face, his sickeningly friendly-looking face. His thumb caught the tear that was edging from the corner of her eye. "You're a right mess, little one. Your hair...tattoos...piercings...painting yourself up like the little slag you always were..."

"No!"

His left hand caught her upper arm in a vice-like grip. "You're coming home, Sara. You're coming home so daddy-Sean can teach you how to be a good girl." He smiled again, his other hand stroking down her body. She whimpered and shied away, but her fear only made him chuckle cruelly.

Small feet kicked out, but lacked the strength to harm her assailant, but it distracted him enough for her to jerk around despite his hold on her and scream - backed with all the power of her vocal training. "TOMMY!"

"Got a new toy, eh?" All humour fled his expression. Before she could register it, the knuckles of his right hand had connected with her left cheekbone.

Her upper arm released, the blow spun her round sharply and she stumbled heavily against the railing, blood seeping from her lips. Scrambling away from him, she tripped in her fear and landed heavily on her rear on the ground. Tears streamed down her face, mascara and eyeliner striping her cheeks.

"Oh dear..." To anyone who happened to have seen the action between the cars, pillars and store drapes, it looked like the young girl had simply stumbled and fallen. Sean's huge frame bent and he caught her arms with his strong hands. "Did you fall down?" She whimpered again as the flesh of her arms started to bruise.

"Blue?" Beyond them, the door squeaked open. "Kid?"

Jerking loose and rolling onto her knees, she half-crawled, half-ran towards Tommy, her knees and hands scraped raw on the pavement. "Don't let him hurt me, Tommy." She pleaded, clinging to the older dancer desperately. "Please..."

"So this is your new toy, eh, Sara?" Sean eyed the dancer with a grin. "I never thought you'd be a little lezzer...I'm sure I could change your mind about that..."

Tommy's almond-shaped ebony eyes narrowed to slits. "Sean, I presume." Steering Blue behind her, her smile was chilling. "I have been wondering when I might run into you." She glanced down at her charge. Blue had sunk down against the wall and was twisting her fingers into her hair, blank eyes fixed on the pavement. "Sara told me you're the one who made her into a woman."

"And you want to find out what a real man is like?" Sean's boyish face split in a grin as the smirking Tommy sashayed towards him, tantalisingly large stretches of skin peeking through the slashes of her shirt and jeans.

She caught his chin in her hand, smiled. "No, Sean." Her other hand caught the front of his trousers, her talon-like nails disregarding the thin fabric. His eyes widened. "I want you to stay the hell away from my little girl."

"You bitch!" He panted.

"I guess I am." She smiled a little wider. "But I'm the bitch who could emasculate you in a second, so I wouldn't go pissing me off with a cocky attitude." She moved her face a little closer to his. "Just give me a reason to enjoy myself." She whispered.

Behind her, the door buzzed again and she heard a sharp curse from Andy. He and the others with him had apparently sprinted down the stairs the second that Leo had called and said they were needed.

"Need a hand, Tommy?" Antoine asked.

"Nah." She stared coldly at Sean. "Mine's not even half full at the moment." She glanced back over her shoulder. "But if you boys want to come and play..." She released Sean's crotch and he groaned, his hands coming protectively to his groin.

Antoine and Jordan were standing beside Blue and Andy, the young dancer-actor holding his stiff girlfriend against his chest. All three of them were half in their make-up and wigs, Andy's Victor wig askew.

"Gonna set all the poofter pussies on me now, eh?" Leaning heavily against the metal rail, Sean scowled across at Tommy, his eyes drifting down to the silent Blue. "Or is it a gang-bang, now, Sara?" He gave Andy a lavicious grin.

The dancer's mismatched eyes rose to the man. "I think you should shut up now."

"Don't you like her, mate? Hot as hell..." Sean drawled, ignoring the tightening of the dancer's thick, muscular shoulders. "Quite a savage little tiger, she is. Plenty of fight in her, if you know what I mean."

The next seconds passed in a blur.

In a blink, Sean was lying on his back on the ground, blood spraying from his burst nose. Both Antoine and Jordan were struggling to hold back the raging Andy from the spread-eagled man at his feet.

"Get him out of here." He spat, jerking away from his friends, his eyes dark with fury. His last words were directed at the bleeding man. "You come near her again and I swear I won't hesitate to kill you."

Stalking towards his small lover, he bent down and gently scooped her shaking body up in his arms. Carrying her back towards the stage door, he held her close to him and murmured soothingly to her.

After the couple departed and were safely on their way to the upper floors, Antoine and Jordan hauled Sean to his feet, dragging him to the door, where Tommy immediately ordered Leo to call the police.

Having seen the state his small friend was in, the doorman was happy to oblige.

***

Blood trickled steadily from her toes, dripping down to form a small, dark puddle on the smooth floor. Blue's fingertips were white, pressed hard against the underside of the make-up desk, eyes fixed on nothing.

"You okay in there, Shorty?" Kneeling down at her feet, Andy touched one of her thin hands, his brow tight with concern. She hadn't said anything, since Tommy had come up and told her that Sean had been arrested and would be charged if she testified. 

A nod was the only response he received.

Placing a small bowl of warm water beside his knee, he started to dab the blood from her legs, talking softly to her. "She's right, you know." He held her small foot in his palm. "This is the only way you'll know it's all over."

The tips of her fingers got a little whiter, but she said nothing, staring through him.

"This might sting..." He gently dabbed some iodine on the scratches on her knees, wincing in sympathy as she drew a sharp breath between her teeth. Squeezing her thigh comfortingly, he knelt up, lifting one of her hands off the desk. "We only want to help, Blue. If we get rid of him, you'll be safe."

He carefully cleaned each of her grazed palms and the scored fingertips, touching a kiss to each hand before laying them on her knees. She had still not spoken by the time Raymond and Tony had arrived to don their make-up and costumes.

"Almost finished." He continued quietly, ignoring the curious looks from his two friends. He tilted her face up and - using water and cotton wool - tenderly sponged the mess of make-up from her elfin features.

A hideous dark bruise was blossoming on her delicate face from the blow that her stepfather had landed on her cheek. Blue's lover forced down a violent reaction, although the temptation to find Sean and break every bone in his body was tempting.

Only when he had finished wiping her face gently dry with a hand towel did she shudder, bowing her face.

"Blue?"

Her tear-filled blue eyes rose to his. "I'm scared, Andy." She whispered, fresh tears breaking from her eyes in a torrent. He nodded, engulfing her in a bear hug and pressing his lips against her forehead. "I-I just want it over."

"I know, Shorty." He whispered in response, holding her close as she let the tears fall. She clung to him, as if he were a lifeline. Rocking her gently, he stroked her back tenderly. "You know I love you, don't you?"

She nodded softly. "Thank you." She said, simply holding him.

***

"I can go on!"

"No, you can not." Tommy forcibly dragged her roommate to the wide mirror, gesturing to the bruises on her face and the cuts and scrapes all over her hands and knees. "You can barely even bend your knees, so how in the hell do you intend to crawl around or dance?" She turned over the girl's small hands. "And how would you do the acrobatics, when you'd probably end up bleeding all over the stage?"

Pulling away, Blue looked down at her hands with frustration. "I don't just wanna sit around and do nothing." She mumbled. "I'd rather be onstage, hiding, than sitting back here on my own, watching you." She touched the thick scabs on her palms. "I think I could still dance some of it. I don't mind my knees being sore."

"You could take Electra." Georgina suggested from the floor, where she was struggling to undo a tangled bootlace. "I know Cettie as well as you know Leccie and she's probably the most ignorable kitten of the bunch."

The blue-haired dancer threw herself at the ginger girl, who squealed in surprise. "Thank you, you little genius!"

"I hope you know what you're doing." Tommy sighed, returning to her make-up desk and retrieving her make-up brush.

Blue looked Georgina up and down. Georgina was only an inch or two taller than she was and they were about the same build, so costume wasn't a problem. "I'll do your make-up, if you do mine." The ginger-haired girl grabbed her pots of paint and grinned.

"As long as I actually look at Electra." Blue cautioned.

A wicked grin glittered in the other girl's eyes. "Of course."

***

Cuddled on the tire between Benjamin and Andy, Blue felt her boyfriend's hand stroking her back gently during the opening bars of Gus and smiled faintly up at him, raising her brows as he bent to chew on her ear.

Once again, Andy was on in Tony's role, thanks to an abundance of flu that was making its way through the cast. Robbie was off, filled to the gills on medication, so Tony had assumed the role of Munkustrap.

As Electra, Blue was happy to be the background kitten for once and since Admetus and Electra had a strange kind of friendship, it meant she could spend all the more time being hugged by her lover.

By the end of warm-ups, most of their little group of friends had heard about what had happened outside the stage door and all of them were doing everything they could to make sure the petite dancer was all right.

On Deuteronomy's opposite side, both Jenni and Georgina – as Rumpleteaser and Etcetera – were watching as Admetus and Electra cuddled closer together, the intimacy of the moment only broken when Admetus yanked both of Electra's ears.

Benjamin gently touched his hand to each of theirs, gathering them all up in his huge arms and hugging every one of the kittens warmly, but especially little Blue. The smallest member of the whole cast, she had been at the receiving end of hugs and kisses from everyone.

Even Kashka's icy façade had thawed briefly when she heard what had happened. A large, steaming pizza had found its way into Blue's dressing room, with a note that read 'Keep safe, K'.

It had immediately found its way into the stomachs of Andy, Raymond and Tommy.

Much to Blue's relief, though, none of the cast were tiptoeing around her, as if she would break at the slightest word. They were a little more protective, but none of them were treating her like she was mentally deficient. 

Things were as insane as they had ever been, the hard evidence of which had been provided by Antoine running around backstage in his shorts with a metal bowl on his head, screaming that 'they' were after him.

When asked who they were, he had pointed at the roof, then stole some chopsticks from Norman and raced off, smacking the top of the bowl, howling for the alien scum to leave him alone.

The cast members who had witnessed it had gaped mutely after him, shaking their heads in disbelief.

Looking at him as he sat on the car, during Gus, though, he had never looked calmer or more dignified. Blue was certain that if she told any fan that Skimbleshanks was completely insane and did the craziest things she had ever seen, they would never have believed her.

Laying her head down on Benjamin's thigh and sighing contentedly as Andy continued to stroke her back, she had to admit she couldn't imagine being happier than with the crowd of lycra-clad lunatics seated on the same stage as her.


	7. The Cast - Part 7 - Break A Paw

"I just can't believe how many characters you've got to do." Malcolm was balanced on his toes on a chair beside Andy, watching as the taller man carefully applied the Alonzo make-up. 

Andy chuckled. "It's fun." Turning to Malcolm, he twitched his nose. "Are my whiskers straight, mate?"

Malcolm nodded, balancing his hands on his knees. Always in incredibly early before the show and ready before anyone else, Malcolm had yet to take a day off from the gruelling role of Mistoffelees.

"How do you do it, though? I mean, playing a happy kitten is bad enough for me."

Andy frowned, adding a line of black around one eye. "Each character has a different personality." He replied. "Tugger is easy. He thinks he's God. It's really as simple as that. Admetus is bugging as hell because he's the background type, until Macavity." He grinned. "Gotta love being Munk, though. Nothin' beats that leader feeling."

Malcolm glanced in the direction of Robbie's dressing room. "Yeah, well if Robbie doesn't get better soon, I'm guessing you'll be pulled in." He pulled a face. "Everyone in the cast seems to be getting this flu that's going round." Powdering his face, Andy sneezed violently. "Bless you." Malcolm smirked. "See what I mean. Everyone's getting the flu."

"Except you."

"Except me." He agreed sheepishly. "Something about me seems to be immune to bugs and colds. I can't remember ever being sick."

Pulling his costume on, Andy turned to let Malcolm help him fasten it. The taller of the two shook his head with a low groan. "Just rub it in, Mal. Just make me disappointed that I'll never play Mistoffelees. See!" he turned mournfully to the younger dancer. "You've broken my heart now." 

"Sure." Malcolm almost grinned at him. "I'll tell Blue you're her new understudy now, shall I? A 6'4 Etcetera would just be too cute!" Andy pulled a face and reached for his tail. "You'd be adorable as Griddle too."

Andy pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You know, Mal" He drawled. "I make one helluva Grizabella. Even the casting people said so." Malcolm gawped at him. Andy grinned, got to his feet and sauntered off to find his wig, whistling the Jellicle Ball.

Scratching his wig, Malcolm gave a feline twitch and sighed. "I really don't get that guy." He decided, swinging onto his feet to go and find someone else to annoy.

***

The first half of the show and most of the second act done, Robbie was feeling grateful that he was still on his feet. Tonight, he decided, would be his last night for at least a couple of days. He needed to rest.

Watching Kashka leap up onto the disguised Macavity's back, he started forward as the thick grey coat went sailing off. Andy was standing nearby, ready for his involvement in the fight.

Robbie and Tony were facing off, centre stage. Georgina and Blue were crouched near the car, ready to dive forward and aid the fallen Munkustrap when their cue came. In the Bombalurina costume in place of Tommy, Joely shot them a tight grin from the other side of the stage.

Spinning, Robbie met Tony's eyes. They had their own semi-sign language for the scene, communicating with nods and sharp gestures. The fight was by far the hardest scene in the show, compared to all the dance routines.

"O.K?" Tony mouthed, more intent on Robbie than Kashka as Demeter. They'd spoken during the intermission. Robbie was on a course of antibiotics for an ear infection and had decided it was only fair to warn his co-fighter. They made him a little drowsy, but he was certain he could get through the fight.

With a nod, he launched himself at 'Macavity'. As usual, there were the scratches and hisses accompanying them from the surrounding 'tribe'. All, however, were keeping an eye firmly on Robbie. Several days before, his ear infection had set his balance awry and he had fallen badly, spraining a wrist.

Spinning away from 'Munkustrap', Tony took several sharp breaths, then moved back in for the lift and throw. It never ceased to amaze him how light Robbie could make himself when he – Tony – had to throw him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Andy in the Alonzo costume. Raymond had gone and got himself a dose of the flu, giving everyone's favourite swing a chance to play the black and white tomcat, instead of Tugger as he had the previous week.

From the opposite side of the stage, Robbie threw himself into the run up for the first major throw. His head felt light, but he was adamant. He was going to manage to do the fight, even if meant sitting through the rest of the show. He couldn't let Tony down.

Hoisted high over the wild, red wig, Robbie grimaced, spots dancing in his vision. A numbing tingle passed from head to toe, as Tony launched him back towards the kittens, where he was meant to fall.

Every cast member seemed to lunge for Robbie as he fell. There was no mistaking the awkward angle he dropped at. His shoulder smashed full weight onto the smooth surface, his body skidding to a halt in front of Blue and Georgina.

"Sh. It." Georgina stared at his shoulder, clearly wrenched out of its socket. Blue waved Andy towards Tony, moving around Robbie to carefully lift his head in her arm. 

"Rob?"

His eyes opened slowly. "Ow." He mumbled. "Gotta...gotta fight..." He tried to struggle upright, but was held back by both girls.

"No." Georgina poked his shoulder to make her point, her voice more of a hiss than whisper as he yelped in pain. "You gotta get backstage. Andy's fighting..."

Robbie glanced over at Tony and Andy, grimacing as a bolt of pain spread from his dislocated shoulder. "Get me outta here..." He hissed under his breath. Blue nodded, gesturing for Georgina to stay where she was. 

Helping Robbie to his hand and knees, she directed him backwards, towards the nearest ramp. "Crawl down." She whispered, her arm over his back, hand supporting his limp arm. "No one'll notice..."

"K." Grimacing in pain, he slowly slid down the ramp and across the aisle, out of sight of the audience. Helped to his feet by the smallest dancer in the troupe, he gave her a tight smile of thanks as she looped his good arm over her shoulder.

"C'mon, daddy Munk." Making their way slowly around to the green room, the easiest place to reach, Blue stepped back as Robbie sank down on a seat. Clutching his arm to him, he glanced at his shoulder with a look of dismay.

"Bugger..."

Blue carefully peeled away the top of the unitard on his orders. Much to his surprise, he didn't even utter a girly squeak, although the temptation to do so was strong. "Rob, we gotta get you to a hospital...this looks wrong..."

"It's dislocated...course its effin' wrong..." Pressing his eyes shut to stem tears of pain, he bit the inside of his lip.

She shook her head. "No…it looks way wronger than a dislocation does..." She touched it gently. "Dislocations don't usually bleed."

"Double bugger with a crap on top." Glancing over, as the door opened and Tony entered, Robbie forced a smile. "Hey, man. Sorry about that."

Tony crossed the room quickly, pulling the wig from his head. "Never mind that, Rob. You're okay, aren't ya?"

"The kid says I gotta go to the hospital." Reaching up to pull his own wig off, he grimaced. "Hurts like hell..." He gave the other actor a pained grin. "And it was my own stupid fault for thinking I could fight when I was half-asleep."

Gesturing Blue back towards the stage, Tony rounded Robbie. "You go back on, shorty. I'll take care of stripy, here." Blue nodded, running for the stage. "And let's get you to the boss' car before he notices..."

***

"Broken?"

"But it was just dislocated!"

"Is it serious?"

Melissa Cassidy, one of the crew, spread her hands. "From what I've heard, the impact cracked the joint of his shoulder. It's not a bad break, but with the dislocation, it's going to take a while to heal properly."

"So we're Munk-less? Are they calling in the special extras, since he's going to be out for a while?"

"Actually..." Andy raised his hand. "That special-op type would be me. Apparently I did the fight well enough to get me an upgrade to leader." He grinned in a self-depreciating fashion. "I start on Monday's performance and they're bringing in a special coach to give me a hand getting started. Tony's playing him at the evening show tonight and I'm stuck being Tugger because they want me to rehearse."

"You mean we have to pretend to respect that dude?" Raymond chuckled deeply. Fresh back from his two day's off, the big dancer was feeling much better, but rather irritated he hadn't been around to help Robbie the previous night. He reached over and patted Andy on the back. "Honey, you wave that sweet tushie of yours in my direction and you'll get my undivided attention."

Swatting Raymond away, Blue grinned. "Eeh! Man! Keep yer paws off!" She sidled between the two men at the table. "This Munkustrap's mine, right?"

"Damn! It's you." Shaking his head, Andy mock-sighed. "I thought you woulda quit on me already."

"No such luck." She snuggled against him, turning her attention back to Melissa. "Did Robbie have to stay in hospital overnight? And does he have a cast or just bandages? Any idea how long he'll be off for?"

Melissa sighed. "No idea, I'm afraid." She added another pin to the notice about Robbie's injury, then turned back to them. "It'll be a good few months before we know if he'll be able to dance…maybe more for him to get back in shape from the chest up."

"So you're saying its going to be a long time, then?"

"Isn't he smart?" Blue condescendingly patted Andy on the head and he stuck his tongue out in response.

***

Leaning against the second pillar from the door, the tall figure merged eerily out of the shadows the moment Antoine bustled out of the stage door after the second performance of the day. 

She stepped into the beam of the street light with a smile. A hefty folder was clutched under one arm, a rucksack slung over a suede-covered shoulder and the look on her face spoke of insurmountable bribery of the art variety.

"Well, well!" Skidding to a halt, the bleach blonde dancer cocked his head at her. "Why am I not surprised to see you, Miss Lawson?"

The shorthaired Londoner gave him a wide grin. "I thought you would have forgotten all about me, old man Skimble." Antoine attempted to look offended, but gave in and hugged the woman fondly. "How have you been? Not bored with this yet?"

"Bored with my pussies? That's like asking you if you've stopped drawing." She gave him a lop-sided grin. "How have you and Phil been? Its ages since we've seen the daft git. Is he still skating for a living?"

Annie smiled indulgently. "He's going into his last month now." She replied. "I saw him play Electra a few weeks ago. I don't even want to say how disturbing that was." She glanced down towards the stage door. "He's been in touch with management, though..."

"What, here?"

"Well, we did hear that you were running short on swings." Annie gave him a thoroughly innocent look. "Something about one being given a touring offer and splitting and another having a breakdown of some sort..."

"We've just gone and got ourselves a major problem on top of all that, though." Making sure none of the more...unusual fans were lurking nearby and listening, Antoine spoke softly. "Were you at the show last night?"

"I was going to ask...what happened to Robbie?"

"So you noticed. He took the fall badly and now, he'll be off for months." Antoine ran his fingers through his mousse-free hair, mussing it even more than before. "We're getting one of the older Munks back to train up his replacement, if they have time. None of our swings have had the experience of playing Munk because Robbie has only been off once in a year and a half."

"Why not just let Tony play him? He did a good job at the matinee and evening shows today."

Antoine shook his head. "Wouldn't work." He replied. "Tony was contracted to play Admetus and he prefers that role to Munkustrap. He doesn't think he has the vocal strength to play him every night."

"Do you have a swing lined up to fill in?"

"Actually, we do. I still can't believe the management would be so insane..." He looked around as the stage door squealed open again. "Speak of the devil." Two figures emerged, one tiny, one tall. The tall male took a step forward and immediately tripped over his shoelaces, falling on his face at Annie's feet. "Uh..." Grinning weakly, Antoine gestured to the prostrate dancer on the ground. "Meet our new Munk."

Annie stared down at the tall man at her feet. His small companion was doubled over, clutching the rail and giggling hysterically. "You're telling me that he," Andy rolled onto his knees and rubbed his scraped nose indignantly. "Is Munkus?"

"Fraid so." Offering Andy his hand, Antoine helped the former swing to his feet. The younger dancer brushed the dirt from the knees of his jeans and from the front of his jacket. "Mate, you've just made...er...an impression on the world's biggest Munkuholic."

A look of sheer terror filled the brunette's mismatched eyes and he grabbed the giggling, trench-coat-wearing Blue, pushing her squarely between his body and Annie. "Back! Back! She's armed, I tell ya! She'll bite yer legs off!"

"I didn't mean that kind of impression." Antoine grinned. "You fell on your face in front of her. Try and think what that says about you..." The taller man frowned, as if deep in thought. "Y'see, he's not the brightest bulb in the box."

Giving the blond a dirty look, Andy turned to Annie. "I'm not usually this clumsy." He said, ignoring the sniggers of both Blue and Antoine. "Someone tied my laces together, while I was talking to Leo." The petite dancer looked shocked at the accusation. "Plus," He yawned. "Sleepy. Just played Admetus and Mac twice."

"You can make all the excuses in the world, mate," Blue elbowed him in the hip region, eyes dancing. "She'll never believe you."

"But I'll be a good Munk! Never played him before, but I'll be good!"

"Keep telling yourself that, Andy." Antoine clapped him on the shoulder. "We'll still be here when reality hits."

Andy pulled a face. "On that note," He bent and swung the shrieking Blue over his shoulder. "I will depart." The girl continued to wriggle and squeal as Andy wove between an assembly of fans and disappeared around the corner.

Both Annie and Antoine watched them go. "Why did he take Blue?" Annie pondered aloud.

"Its Tommy's week off and she gave him her orders. Under no circumstances is Blue allowed to walk home alone at night." Antoine grinned faintly. The couple was adamant that no one but the cast was to know about their relationship. "Andy's her elected babysitter."

"Tommy trusts someone like Andy...?"

Antoine chuckled. "He isn't as dumb as he acts, y'know." He remarked. "When he has to, he's as smart as they come, but he likes to catch people off-guard with it. Took him a while, but yeah, Tommy likes him. I dread to think what Bomba's gonna be like with Munk now, though."

"You think they'd improvise?"

Antoine gestured for Annie to accompany him, walking further down the block, beyond the hearing range of the small knot of fans. "Let me put it mildly." He explained. "You know Kashka plays Demeter?" Annie nodded. "Kashka and Andy despise each other. I don't mean mild dislike. If they could legally kill one another, I'm convinced they would."

"And they're playing the most infamous couple in the show?" Annie gaped at him.

"That's where the fun begins." Antoine nodded. "Munk is allowed to snuggle with anyone, but he has to come back to Dem, with Bombalurina as second in line. Not only does this soon-to-be-Munkustrap hate his mate, but Bombalurina can't stand her either."

"Ah...I see this being fun."

Antoine rubbed his jaw. "Don't tell anyone I said this, but I can see Kashka leaving soon. She's already highly pissed off at the management for making Tommy the number one understudy for Grizabella, instead of her."

"Do they know about her and Andy...?"

"I doubt it. When they're on-stage, those two are incredibly professional, but I can't see them willingly wanting to be all over each other. If they even had to hold hands in public, they would look like they had been sucking lemons."

There was a long silence. "He'll be a tall Munkustrap." Annie finally noted. "Do you think he's up to the job?"

"No doubt about it." A broad smile lit up Antoine's face. "I still can't understand how he was overlooked during the auditions. He auditioned at least half a dozen times, but was never picked, even though he is qualified to be a dance instructor in half a dozen styles. Hell, he was even the U.K. disco, jazz and tap champion before he was fourteen. The acrobatic things that guy can pull off...and the voice. God, I would kill for his voice...he could play any character easily." He chuckled. "He actually has done."

"Oh?"

"I've seen him playing a day-dreaming Admetus, an insane and completely terrifying Mac, a strong-and-silent Alonzo, Tugger to perfection, Skimble on caffeine, the most creepy Coricopat you've ever seen, a mentally-blonde Victor...hell, I even heard they called him in to play Gus when half the cast were down and out with flu."

The artist whistled under her breath. "A twenty-something Gus? Isn't he a bit too young for it?"

"Most people would think so. The stage manager seriously regretted letting him near the stage that night. Apparently the pirate crew and Siamese were pissing themselves laughing for the whole Growltiger number."

"Why so?"

Antoine grinned sheepishly. "I was off, along with five of the other guys and two girls, so I didn't see it, but apparently Growltiger's eyepatch went missing before the number and Andy was forced to use a pink scarf snatched from one of the prop co-ordinaters. That night, the campest Growltiger the world has ever seen was on display." The blonde chuckled at the mental image. "Old Growl was more interested in Grumbuskin than Griddlebone."

"Oh God..." Annie gaped at him.

"You have no idea how much I regret missing that show." Antoine's eyes danced.

Rubbing her forehead with her fingertips, Annie looked at him. "Lemme get this straight," She said. "He was a gay Growltiger, a dopey Victor, a hyperactive Skimbleshanks..." The actor nodded, grinning. "Oh God...my poor Munkustrap!"

***

"I hate Mondays." 

"You had mentioned that before, Andy." Tommy remarked dryly, following Andy and Blue around the side of the theatre towards the stage door. "Several times, actually. A minute. Every minute."

"But we don't normally have to come in this early on a Monday morning." The tall dancer looked for his watch. "I mean, it's only ten o'clock. Yeah, I take on a new role tonight, but I don't need that much practise."

Blue, her arm around her boyfriend's hip, looked up at him. "Will you stop complaining, big guy? We all have to come in early just to rehearse with you and its all your fault. If anyone has a right to complain, its us."

"Pah." Andy pouted down at her. "You're just trying to stop me sulking."

Hauling open the stage door in front of the couple, Jonny smiled. "As if we would want to do that, Andy." He let them and Tommy enter, then followed them in. "Its not our fault that you've got delusions of tabby grandeur."

"As long as they haven't gone and got a pompous ex-Munk to come and lecture me about how to be a cat." Taking the pen from Jonny, Andy sighed, signing the check-in sheet and scanned it for the name of his instructor. "Like I haven't done that before."

"Any idea who the coach is?" Blue directed the question at Leo, who seemed to be having some trouble wrestling with a handful of programmes that didn't seem to want to be pushed into an envelope.

"He passed through here earlier, but they didn't have his name on the forms, so he had to go to the managers." Tossing the envelope aside, Leo glared at it. "I think you lot are the first ones in after him. Mal and Ray got in a little while back."

"Great." Andy groused, rubbing his eyes. "An early-bird. Just what I need."

"What's up with him?" The doorman cocked his head, eyeing the big dancer. 

Blue hugged her lover's thigh. "He had a bit of a rough night last night." She replied, with an innocent smile. "He seemed to have a small pest in his bed, keeping him awake all night...and two rather noisy ladies elsewhere didn't help."

"Can we go already?" His hair mussed around his face, Andy rubbed his nose with his knuckles. "I wanna meet this old fart and get this whole malarky over with, so I can get some sleep before the show."

"Un moment..." Snatching the pen, Tommy roughly scrawled her name in the box beside her initials. "Jonny, grab the lift, there's a sweetheart."

It took several minutes before the lift did finally arrive and Andy had still not stopped whining about being sleepy. Piling in, the tallest of the quartet laid his head against the wall and yawned emphatically, receiving a swat on the knee from his petite partner.

Entering the deserted upper levels, the only people who seemed to be present were Malcolm and Raymond, who were lounging together on the couch. The huge black dancer was lying on his back and the little Goth was resting against his chest, both of them fast asleep.

Raymond's huge arms had circled Malcolm's slim body, the smaller dancer's jet hair spread in rumpled waves across the bare, solidly muscled dark chocolate-coloured chest of the American dancer.

"How come they get to sleep?" Andy grumbled, striding over to the single couch and giving it a kick. "Hoi." Two sleepy pairs of eyes looked up at him. "If you're gonna snuggle like this, move in with each other already."

"Nice to see you too, Andy." Sitting up, Malcolm's hand lingered briefly on Raymond's chest, then he stretched his arms above his head with a yawn. "What's the buzz?"

"You were sleeping. I'm not." Andy replied petulantly.

"You slept til three in the afternoon yesterday, you lazy sod!" Blue exclaimed. "I think you just want to..."

"To...?" Andy prompted, but Blue didn't seem to hear. Turning around, she frowned, looking towards the door. "Can you hear that?" She asked, walking towards the doors that led to the stage. "I can hear music."

Exchanging bemused glances, all of her friends rose, following her. "Nothing better to do til anyone arrives, I guess." Raymond stood, arching back and flexing his body. "If the lil one is hearing things, I guess we might as well check it out."

The smallest dancer of the group led the way straight down to the auditorium and all of them had to admit that she had been right. Someone was blasting music through the sound system and it sounded like the overture.

"The orchestra shouldn't be in yet." Jonny noted, frowning slightly.

Opening the doors, the little group entered the auditorium and peered around. The houselights were on, but no one could be seen. The stage was in the opening position, so they couldn't see if anyone was on the front.

They moved around the aisle, coming around in front of the round stage. "Hello?" Tommy called out. "Is anyone about?"

Nobody replied, but the overture reached its climax around them, a silence falling as the music trailed off into silence. A sound from downstage made them jump in fright, all of them whipping around and staring up at the car.

Someone was most definitely there.

On the top of the trunk, a figure rose gracefully onto its hands and knees, gazing down at them enigmatically. Clad in the silver-tabby patterning of Munkustrap, the perfectly made-up face tilted slightly, then looked away.

"Wow..." Andy gaped as the man lazily turned and smoothly slid down the hood of the car on his hands and knees. Crawling down onto the stage with casual ease, he slowly rose in a sleek, flawless motion in time for the first line of the _Jellicle Songs For Jellicle Cats_.

Ignoring his audience, the man improvised the dance, his body flowing gracefully around the stage, every tiny gesture fluid and sensual. While they had all been taught to be feline, this strangely hypnotic man simply oozed felinity.

"Okay...I'm straight..." Tommy breathed, one of her hands rising to rest on her chest. "I am so straight a ruler looks bent."

As the song came to a halt, the seductive male glided towards them, his body straight, his shoulders rolling with every step. His tail swayed from side to side, curling around his calves as he walked, almost convincingly realistic.

Speeding his pace, he dropped to his knees at the top of the nearest, central ramp with enough momentum to bring him to the bottom of the ramp at their feet. He had barely stopped moving when he smoothly rose, straightening up and assuming a dignified, absolutely Munkustrap pose.

"Guuuuuh..." Tommy mumbled incoherently, extending a shaking hand in the cat-fashion out of sheer habit. With an enigmatic smile, the green-eyed man touched his knuckles softly against hers.

Turning towards the four men in the group, the emerald eyes scanned rapidly over each of them, then dipped down to Blue. The quiet smile widened fractionally, the brilliant eyes crinkling good-naturedly.

"Let me guess..." The voice could only be described as a purr, coated with the softest flavour of an exotic accent. He inclined his head gracefully towards Tommy, her flirty personality asserting itself as she drew herself upright with a seductive look. "You must be Bombalurina."

"That was pretty much a given." Blue grinned, playfully swatting at the man's long tail.

"Etcetera." The mock-chastisement in his voice was undercut by a soft ripple of throaty laughter. "And Misto?" Malcolm nodded appreciatively. A grey-black warmer rose, the man's fingers rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Mungojerrie, I am assuming."

Jonny parodied a bow. "Dats roight on da money, guvna!"

"Which leaves you two..." Tilting his head slightly to the side, he nodded again with a smile as Raymond bent his head out of instinct and rubbed the side of his head against the wig. "We have Alonzo."

"How did you know?"

The man turned to Andy with a smile. "All part of the role of Munkustrap. I can recognise any character by their habits and actions." He cast his eyes over the longhaired brunette. "I'm guessing that you're going to be my student."

"Y-you're the ex-Munk?" The swing's jaw sagged. 

The man shrugged in a self-depreciating fashion. "I'm probably a little out of practise with the character, but yes. I was Munkustrap a couple of years ago, before Robbie was brought in to replace me."

"Out of practise?" Blue squeaked. "Man, you're the best Munkustrap I've seen! Are ye just a bloody great big cat or something?"

The actor laughed, a soft, deep sound. "Maybe I am." He replied, his eyes dancing. "I just couldn't resist getting back into the costume." He stretched out his arms in a cat-like fashion, then arched his back. "I suppose its kind of difficult to take a giant pussy seriously..." 

He reached up and plucked the wig off his head, removing the stocking cap rapidly and letting a mass of long hair fall loosely around his shoulders. Running his fingers through his silky mane, he cocked his head.

"What?"

"Did you know your hair matches your wig?" Malcolm indicated to the dancer's hair.

Indeed, the long hair was a combination of black and silver. While to some the silvery streaks would look grey, this man's definitely was a shimmering silver colour. There was no way any hair on his head could be called grey.

"Someone had pointed it out before. It's been like this for as long as I can remember." He grinned broadly. "And it gets worse." Several brows lifted. "I should introduce myself. I'm Menke." He chuckled, turning the wig over in his hands. "Menke Strep."

Six pairs of eyes goggled at him, then six people started to laugh, soon to be joined by the owner of the strangely apt name.

***

"You're struggling with those lines again." Sitting on the back of one of the chairs in the front row, Menke had his feet propped on the seat of the chair. Andy nodded, pausing in the middle of the stage. "Want to try from the top with me?"

"Sounds like a good idea." Hands on his hips, Andy shook his feet as the senior dancer bent to hit the replay button on the CD player. Menke leapt lightly up onto the platform, moving to stand beside Andy.

"Remember not to hurry on the first lines. Enunciate like you're saying it to someone who s half deaf."

It was five hours after Andy and Menke had been formally introduced. The rest of the cast had rehearsed with them for an hour, but the older actor had told the dance captain that he wanted to work with Andy alone, to help him without pressure.

Both of the dancers were clad in jogging bottoms, dance shoes and a tail. Andy's long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but Menke's was free about his shoulders.

Side-by-side, the duo started the steps of _The Pekes and The Pollicles_. While Andy could do the dance routine backwards, he was having serious trouble fitting the words in around the motions of the dance, often running out of breath mid-word.

Menke looked like he could have sleep-walked his way through the whole show, but he happily had taken each song deftly apart for Andy, showing him the fullest way to make sure he didn't miss a thing.

The older actor seemed to know the character of Munkustrap as well as he knew himself. He had sat down with his counterpart, after they had run through _Jennyanydots_ several times, and explained in detail to Andy just why Munkustrap was the leader, why he defended Demeter and why he was respected as the Leader after Old Deuteronomy.

"Was this explained to you in the orientation seminars or something?" Andy had asked between mouthfuls of water.

Menke had smiled slightly. "It just makes sense. What have you been told about the character of Munkustrap that you think is important?"

"He's second in command in the group, after Old Deuteronomy." Andy had replied after a moment's thought. "He's not the oldest in the group, but he's the protector. He's responsible for the groups safety." Menke had nodded, not saying anything. "As for Demeter...I dunno. I was just told that they were close."

Gesturing for Andy to join him on the car, Menke had sat down and sighed deeply. "Here's how I see it. For Munkustrap to be the second in command, he must be respected by the tribe, but - more than that - he had to be liked. The respect and security the tribe feel from him comes from trust and you can't truly trust someone if you don't like them."

"So everyone in the tribe sees Munkustrap as a kind of protective big brother?" Much of what the senior man was saying made sense to the younger dancer. "They treat him with love and he returns it?" Menke's smile said a lot. "So, if I - as Munk - show that I like the tribe, it's along the right lines?"

"If Munkustrap went around kicking the kittens, do you think anyone would respect him?"

"I see what you mean." Stretched out along the boot, the metal cool against his bare chest, Andy frowned slightly. "What about Demeter?"

Menke went silent for a long moment. His hand rose to his own chest, touching a cross of fading scar tissue that was centred over his heart. The soft strains of _Jennyanydots_ sounded from the CD player, barely noticeable.

"Menke?"

"Imagine, if you can," The senior dancer's voice was shaking slightly. "A love so deep that you think nothing can stop it." Andy saw a flash of blue eyes in his mind's eye, nodded. "Then, imagine if you will, something or someone has harmed that figure, some time that you didn't know about." Andy found green eyes staring at him. "Imagine that the one you love is Demeter. Imagine she cannot get passed that torment and fears it will happen again, soon." He released a breath. "Imagine he tries to take her away from you. That's how I see Demeter and Men... Munkustrap's relationship. That's why he faces Macavity for her. Do you understand?"

Andy's tight burst of laughter seemed to surprise the senior dancer. "Been there, done that, broke the son of a bitch's nose."

"So we are both speaking from experience." Menke had said softly, turning his left hand over and looking down at the wedding ring on his finger. The moment had passed quickly and before Andy had the chance to ask what he meant, Menke had raised green eyes, smiled and briskly ordered him to get back on with the practise.

"Damn it!" Coming to a halt during the second stanza of _The Pekes & The Pollicles_, Andy threw back his head with a cry of exasperation. "I'm never going to get this right." He shot a glare at the CD player.

Menke crossed the stage and paused the CD, turning patiently back to his companion. "You'll be fine, Andy." He soothed. "You're not the first Munkustrap to have problems getting the timing on this song." 

"But I only have until tonight..."

"And you can do the dance routine perfectly." Returning to Andy's side, Menke steered him back to the opening position. "Just relax and don't speed up so much. You don't have to be nervous. That's what your problem is."

"But I..."

Menke rolled his eyes. "Andy, if you want to get this right, stop being so paranoid about it."

Can you do the lines with me?" The black- and silver-haired dancer nodded with a smile, both of them counting the beats as the song started up again.

***

"I have a Gumbie Cat in mind..." Following Menke's instructions, Andy swayed both arms below the elbow in the same direction as his hips, as he sang the lines of the song. It gave him a sensual little quirk, the motion becoming smoother as he practised. 

If there was one piece of advice Menke had repeated, it was never to underestimate the seductive power of the slight, smooth gestures. The older dancer had suggested that, whenever possible, he move his body as close to a sexual style as he dared, without impending threat of a reprimand.

Again, the older dancer had managed to shock him, by performing a routine to _The Gumbie Cat_ that had made the tips of his ears go scarlet. At random moments, different areas of Menke's body would sensually start to roll, while the rest of his body was near motionless. 

To see the older man do what could only be called dirty dancing to a song about an old, lazy cat had made him realise that Menke was right. He could do anything and everything. Felines were like that. They were unequivocally sensual and pleasurable beings and Menke displayed it with frightening ease.

At least half a dozen of the regular cast were staring mutely at Andy, clearly astonished by the little display and his somewhat errant pelvis. While not quite taking it to the level to rival Norman, as Tugger, Andy was certainly giving Munkustrap some 'oomf', as Menke described it so fittingly.

The other members of the cast were gathered in their usual positions, as he continued to sing throatily to the music. He found his girlfriend blinking dumbly up at him, her mouth hanging open. "Her name is Jennyanydots."

Seated beside the centre ramp, still using the back of the chair, Menke nodded, resting his elbows on his knees. He was beating time against his calf with an empty, plastic bottle, his eyes following every motion.

None of the kittens were playing up too much, simply taking the run through as Andy's first chance to do his new role. They were all in their positions, as they would be in a usual performance, but taking in his motions and gestures.

Finishing the song, Andy broke into a wide grin when Menke called for a time out. Blue was in his arms in an instant, her small hands fastened around his neck. "Shorty?" He inquired, navigating her off his lap.

"You didn't tell me you could dance like that! I'm the only person in this relationship that's allowed to dance like a little bitty ho!"

"Blame him, if anyone. He taught me dance to dance like a big bitty ho." He jerked his thumb in Menke's direction, but the senior dancer didn't notice, his attention fixed on someone who was rounding the platform and hurrying towards him, smiling broadly. "Hey, Menke! Who's your friend?"

The dancer tucked his tail into the waistband of his trousers, then caught his companion's hand and led her around to Andy and Blue at the ramp. "Andy, this is my wife, Demi." Gold eyes gazed at the younger dancer. "Demi, this is Andy and the small thing stuck on his leg is Blue, our Etcetera."

"Heya." Blue grinned up at the couple. "Did you just have very smart parents?"

"What are you on about, shorty?"

"Hello?" Blue rolled her eyes. "Dem and Menk. Seeing a familiar couple here?" Directing her boyfriend's face at Demi, she cocked her head. "Imagine her with some gold stripes on her face and short hair..."

With a sudden aberration of vision, Andy was forced to shake his head, blinking. For a second, the pretty young woman holding Menke's arm had looked identical to Kashka's rendition of Demeter. "Shorty...?"

"He really is quite smart from time to time. Bless him." Blue fondly patted Andy's head, then held out a hand to Demi. "Nice to meet a Dem who isn't a bitch." She glanced in the direction of a woman with dark sandy hair sitting on a pipe, ignoring everyone around her.

"Charmed." Demi chuckled. "You just can't get the staff these days." She scratched her husband's chest. "What's it like being back in the junkyard yet again, lover? I thought we'd finally got you out of here."

"Can't keep a good cat down, can you?" Menke looked like he would have liked to purr, as his wife's fingers continued to trace up and down his bare chest. "Do you want to hang around for a while? The guys and gals are just having their drinks and a quick break. We're about to do _The Pekes and Pollicles_ properly." 

"You think I'm ready for that?" Andy inquired.

"I don't see why not, mate." Menke replied with a broad, genuine smile. "You've been absolutely great on everything else so far, so I don't see why you can't get through this one and finish off. Its show-time in a few hours and you deserve a little bit of kip."

Pushing his loose strands of hair back, Andy grinned. "You have NO idea how good that sounds to me." Hugging Blue snugly against his side, he pressed his cheek against her head. "Wanna bunk with me for half an hour before show-time, love?" She nodded, cuddling closer.

"So this is your Dem?" Menke murmured softly, eyeing the small dancer. Any met Menke's eyes. No words needed to be said. The senior dancer gave him a tired smile. "I think you're going to do fine as Munk, Andy." He said quietly. "Just fine."


	8. The Cast - Part 8 - Funky Munky

"Am I the only one who finds this idea ridiculous?"

"Are you saying my boy can't do a good job?"

Tommy, lying on her back on the couch in the common area, raised an eyebrow. "Kid, we know your boy can't do a bad job, no matter what he's doing." Blue flushed to the tips of her ears over the cup of tea she was carrying. "It just happens that I think he's not up to Munk standard."

"You're the one who backed out of rehearsals this morning and didn't see him in action." Her roommate reminded her with a broad, impish smile. "You saw Menke doing his smooth and sassy thing and you decided you needed to go to the doctors."

Sitting up to accept her cup of tea and several paracetomol, the older woman sighed. "Hon, I don't think the stage crew would be happy if I let the doc come in and do a smear test in the middle of the stage, no matter how much the guys wanted to see it all." Shifting uncomfortably on the chair, she winced. "I bet Bomba would never have to go through one of those tests. I bet a man invented it. Some sick guy..." She stirred her spoon with unnecessary force, clinking it against the sides of the mug vigourously. "Someone with a tool fetish."

"You and your quality timing." Blue eyes danced with glee. "Andy's going to have to deal with a Bomba who waddles when she walks...how sexy." 

Tommy gave the girl an indignant look. "Do you really think I wanted to go and let the doc fiddle with my bits and pieces?" She asked, swallowing the painkillers. "You'd think that it wouldn't hurt anymore." 

"Sorry, Tom, but in case you'd forgotten, you didn't give me any sympathy when I went for mine." Tommy made a rude gesture with her fingers that made Blue chuckle. Returning to the small kitchenette to get her own mug and Andy's, she gave her lover an affectionate look as she neared the chair he was curled up on. After rehearsing for hours with Menke, he had gratefully accepted the chance for a nap. "Andy?" 

Placing the mugs carefully down on the table, Blue knelt down beside his chair, pushing long strands of loose hair back from Andy's sleeping face. Curled up in a ball, his head resting on his crossed arms on the arm of the soft chair, he had a drowsy smile on his lips.

"Andy," Nuzzling the warm crook of his neck gently, Blue smoothed his dark hair over his shoulder. "Andy, time to wake up."

"Nuh-uh..."

Blue ran her fingertips in teasing circles on his neck. "Andy, you're going to have to get up, you know." He mumbled a response, hiding his face in his arms. "If you don't get up, I'll be forced to resort to desperate measures..."

"Hmm?"

"Are you going to get up?"

"Uh-uh."

Immediately, the dancer became aware that his girlfriend had sped away from his as fast as she could move. Suspiciously opening his eyes a fraction, he saw both Tommy and Blue grinning broadly at him...

An instant before the ice-cold water sluiced down his body, soaking through his shabby T-shirt and jogger bottoms.

The howled series of crude and startled expletives from the dancer drew curious glances from the members of the cast who were still wandering around between dressing rooms, some half-dressed, others on their way for food.

"I warned you." Blue smirked, as Andy sat up, panting and shivering with the sudden cold of the water.

"She did." A cheerful voice remarked from behind the chair. Andy turned to see Menke, a dented, stainless steel jug propped on the back of the chair, the older dancer's forearm leaning on the top of it. "Evening, Andy."

Struggling to catch his breath, Andy gaped at him. "Y-y-you soaked m-me, y-you git

"And I thought you said he was slow, Blue." Menke chuckled. "He seems pretty quick on the uptake to me." His other hand appeared from behind the chair, dropping a large white towel over the swing's head. "Dry the chair, boyo. People'll want to sit there and sitting on a damp seat isn't exactly comfy."

Several mumbled curses later, Andy toweled the moisture out of his hair and off his face. "I don't have any other clothes with me." He peeled off the soaked T-shirt and dropped it with an audible 'splut'. "What am I meant to wear?"

"I've got a nice frock." Tommy suggested. "It's quite revealing, but I think it would suit you."

"For walking passed the fans this evening?" With a whimper, Andy stood and removed his dripping trousers, adding them to the heap of wet clothing. "I'll have to get my things dried! I can't go out there dressed as a girl!"

Tommy rolled her eyes. "Andy, my dress would look a helluva lot better on you than those saggy-arsed trousers you keep wearing." She rocked her hips again, trying to get into a more comfortable position on the pillow she was seated upon. "I'm sure no one would notice."

"Alternatively," Blue tugged at the waistband of Andy's boxer shorts, her eyes dancing. "You could always lose the undies as well..."

Amid the laughter of his friends, Andy flung his hair over his shoulders and announced. "I'm going now! You ruffians are too crude and immature for the likes of me." He stalked off with the air of a pompous diva.

The laughter continued.

Then got worse as a pair of dripping boxer shorts sailed through the air and landed on Menke's head.

***

"Well, sweet thing," A muscular pair of arms slid around her waist. "How's my little Etc...er... Rumpleteaser on this fine afternoon?"

Turning, her glowing eyes swinging in her hands, Blue smiled up at Andy. The usual Rumpleteaser was at her brother's wedding, leaving Blue to cover her bases. "I'm fine, Munkustrap. How you doin'? Forgiven me and Menke?"

Swiveling his hips seductively against hers, he pulled her close with a naughty smile and murmured softly, "I'm in Tugger-mode sadly, sweet thing. Poor Munk will suffer dearly for this... as will you..."

"Sounds good to me." She murmured, rising on her toes to rub her head under his chin with a chuckle. "I've heard there's someone in the audience who likes cuddly Munks."

"Cuddly is one thing," He whispered, running his head lightly up her cheek in a completely feline gesture. "All out horny is another! Particularly when all this Munk is interested in is a certain Rumpleteaser!"

Grinning, she nestled closer to him and whispered cheekily. "There's a new spin on the love triangle..." Swatting at him playfully, they both looked up at the call of 'Places' and stole a quick kiss, before racing off to their positions.

***

Being in a different role meant Blue had to frighten audience members in a different position to the usual. Racing out, she almost exploded out laughing, seeing many of her online 'associates' staring up at the cheeky little Rumpleteaser in delight. 

Running along the aisle, flashing her green eyes at the people along the back row, she saw several familiar faces turning to look around at her and grinned. Wiggling her rump at them as she raced passed, she managed a quick handspring along the narrow passage behind Raymond, before darting off to her opening position, behind the back of the set.

Since a majority of people that she knew had managed to get seats on the moving platform, she now knew where to lurk and who to haunt. 

Her flashing eyes replaced, she hid in the wings near the Orchestra, alongside Malcolm, and watched from her hiding place as Andy gracefully slid down the car boot. He rose smoothly to his full and magnificent height of six foot four, leaving her pulse racing at the stunning feline grace he possessed.

With the opening chords of _Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats_, she felt the hairs rising on the back of her neck and shivered. Her companion seemed to notice and smiled at her, before he darted out from their hiding place and back into the aisle.

Pulling merry faces at the people sitting in the first row behind the moving platform, both Blue and Malcolm received smiles of delight from the people seated there before they sprinted up onto the stage to join the frenzied run around.

Ending up beside Jonny for _The Naming_, Blue and the slightly older dancer exchanged head-rubs, pawing at one another. Mimicking each other's gestures, they assumed their positions and started to explain just what a Jellicle Cat was.

During The Naming, Rumpleteaser and Mungojerrie kept their faces straight for the only time in the whole performance, delighting in sitting side by side, positively identical and speaking in perfect time with one another.

Separating to run around the auditorium and scare various audience members, they kept track of one another until they could get back onto the stage and press against one another, looking for all the world like they were up to something.

The duo were great friends, spending time off work going to various places of 'cultural interest', mainly Jonny's favourite gay clubs with his drag-Princess boyfriend. He had secretly confessed he preferred her Rumpleteaser to the usual one, because of their long friendship. 

They knew how to have fun both on and off the stage and both had agreed firmly that if he ever decided to go straight, they would get married within 24 hours, in spite of both of their adoring boyfriends.

And both boyfriends knew about the deal and found it both disturbing and amusing.

In response to it, Jonny's partner, Ramon, had announced that he would take Andy, if Blue broke both their hearts. Andy had immediately grabbed Blue, dipped her over his knee and kissed her as a warning that he was not about to let himself be dumped for an ex-gay-cat and taken as an ex-gay-cat's drag-queen-ex-lover's boyfriend.

Disappearing into the wings, the pair caught up with one another and Andy. The stage was silent as Cassie performed her last night as Victoria, her small bump getting a little too prominent for her to play the Virgin Kitten, unless by divine intervention.

Even the special effects department hadn't been able to come up with something to explain that one.

"Nervous?" Jonny looked up as Andy enfolded Blue in his arms, hugging her tightly. She stroked his arm comfortingly, her cheek pressing lightly against his.

"Pissing my dancebelt." The tall dancer replied, his voice muffled by Blue's wig.

"Didn't need the wonderful imagery there." Flashing a blinding Mungojerrie grin at his friend, Jonny squeezed Andy's hand reassuringly. "You're going to be just great, Andy. Don't stress about it."

Andy nodded, releasing Blue and looking up at the ledge he had to ascend to the car. "Yeah...just being another character...nothing special..." He wiped his warmered hands against his thighs. "See you up there."

"Dislocate a shoulder!" Blue hissed, as he started his ascent. She received a single-fingered salute, then Jonny grabbed her arm and led her towards the ledge they would be appearing over, to get to the stage.

"Jellicle Cats come out tonight! Jellicle Cats, come one, come all!"

Taking their cue, Jonny and Blue scrambled over the top of the junk to join the rest of the group. To the stage right, they stood in the diamond formation, back to back with the rest of the group, Cassie positioned in the centre.

"Jellicle cats meet once a year..." Blue bit her lip. Andy's voice was shaking. She risked a glance in his direction, catching his eyes. Winking, she nodded with a smile. "At the Jellicle Ball where we all rejoice..." His strong voice reasserted itself and his posture altered everso slightly, his attitude oozing confidence.

Blowing out a soft sigh of relief, his tiny girlfriend continued to follow the steps, until the fanfare that signaled that they could break out of the formation and she dived for Andy's legs, fawning over him.

Heeding Menke's advice about how to play Munkustrap, when the kittens sped over to him, he hugged them and played with them, in particular that 'certain Rumpleteaser' who had a bad habit of sliding between his feet and yanking on his tail.

Just before he sang the opening lines of _The Gumbie Cat_, Blue ran from him at the back of the stage and skidded between Andy's knees, dangerously close to overshooting and disappearing down a ramp, when his strong hands locked around her waist. 

As if she weighed barely more than a child, he picked her crouched figure up - much like the King did in the King and I - turning her around to face the back of the stage and slapping her lightly on the rump.

As he turned his back on her, to begin the song, she rubbed her head up his thigh once more, circling his leg before skidding back to her position beside Mungojerrie, who playfully started to scold her for her behaviour.

The audience loved it, as Munkustrap cast a glance back at the kittens, which immediately played innocent, twiddling their tails and grinning. Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the audience with a 'Well, what can ya do?' look and started to sing.

His Munkustrap was the best that Blue could ever recall seeing. Although she had more reason for seeing him in that light, she had to ruefully admit that he was unequivocally the best Munkustrap...

During Jennyanydots' song, when Munkustrap went and sat on the steps in front of the three ladies, his expression of smug bliss as they all draped their arms around him made Blue throw a mock-hiss in his direction. 

On a positive note, from her point of view, she happily noticed that Tommy seemed impressed by Andy's developing performance and that Kashka looked ready to throw something hard and heavy at his head.

In Kashka's case, that was the biggest compliment she could give.

Blue grinned and launched herself at Mungojerrie, both of them tumbling around in a tangle of arms and legs. Jonny had adamantly insisted that he could make her laugh more than she could him. 

Now, she was going to prove him wrong.

Despite being stuck on Munkustrap, she played the naughty kitten consistently throughout the performance, eagerly awaiting the moment when she could go down and freak some of the die-harder fans during Macavity.

Even so, she and Jonny had a ball, their naughty attitudes making 'Mungojerrie' and 'Rumpleteaser' seem a hundred times naughtier than they usually were. At almost half a foot shorter that Jonny, she seemed too short for the double-cartwheel, but pulled it off.

Hiding behind him as 'Munkustrap' – grinning no less – moved forward to "teach those two a lesson", Blue peeped between Jonny's legs and stuck her tongue out, until Malcolm made the announcement about Old Deuteronomy. 

While Norman and Robbie had sung Old Deuteronomy well, Blue – sprawled on her side and gazing up at the be-striped Andy – felt shivers racing down her spine as Andy started to sing the first bars of the song.

Pivoting around to face him, she extended her leg towards him with a curious cock of her head. Bending, Andy directed the song at her as he scratched at her leg, ruffling the leg warmer and almost drawing a giggle from her.

Fortunately, before the hand could progress further up the leg, Tugger came in and introduced the arrival of Old Deuteronomy, just off the edge of the stage. Straightening up, both Andy and Norman sang the final verse of the song, as Benjamin tottered on.

***

Seated near the stove, only one person of the cast was truly not enjoying Andy's portrayal of Munkustrap. Shadowed by both the stove and the mattress, Kashka scowled darkly as the younger dancer started _The Pekes and The Pollicles_.

Pretending to absently stroke Tony's back, she caught Tommy staring baldly at her and stared icily back. The dancer in red flashed a bright, broad grin at the disgruntled Kashka, then licked her lips provocatively.

Her lip curling in distaste, Kashka looked away. 

Behind her, Norman jumped off the pipe, bounced neatly off the immense mattress and did an elaborate mockery of Andy's introduction dance. Before he was meant to, Andy swung round and watched the dance, cocking his head in clear bewilderment.

With a thrust of the pelvis in Andy's direction, Norman grinned widely and darted passed the striped dancer, squealing as he received a swat on the derriere. Shaking his head, Andy watched him go, then turned back to the audience with a look that said 'Anyway...', then he began the song.

Kashka's sour expression did not improve as Andy successfully navigated his way through one of the songs most likely to leave him tongue-tied. Her eyes scanned over the audience as she moved forward in the line up of Pekes, her heart jolting against her ribs.

Vivid green eyes gazed brightly at her from the front row, calm and neutral, taking in her expression and posture. Menke. He was watching the show, taking in everything and she felt a surge of guilt.

He had asked her to at least be civilized and professional towards Andy, despite personal likes or dislikes. He, the Munkustrap that everyone was compared to, had suggested that she tried to look like she was enjoying it.

Then, to her confusion and surprise, he looked across at Andy, both men turning and looking straight her. They nodded politely to her, then pulled a face, sticking their tongues out at her and grinning like idiots.

Kashka's scowl returned tenfold, her hands balling into fists. Inhaling a slow, calming breath she gritted her teeth. She could get through this without hitting either of them. She could deal with the immature and cocky young men.

She was going to murder the management slowly and painfully for their casting decisions.

***

After _The Jellicle Ball_, Andy had sent the tribe scattering around the stage as Grizabella approached. Blue sped off the stage, making for the water fountain and – for the first time ever – beating everyone else to it and downed barely a mouthful before a familiar pair of hands lifted her aside, stealing her position.

Glaring at Munkustrap, she splashed water down the front of his costume and stormed off, her eyes narrowed. "I'm gonna sue someone!" She yowled, marching up the stairs towards the dressing rooms, her tail bobbing behind her.

"Like me?" Catlike, Andy had crept up the stairs behind her and – grabbing her tail – pulled her back into his waiting arms. Her heels still propped on the edge of the step, his broad hands rested at her hips.

Staring up into his deep green and brown eyes, she managed to whisper. "You couldn't afford my price."

The front of his bristly silver and black wig brushed hers and he traced a finger up and down the base of her spine, a wide smile crinkling his eyes. "Just how much is your price, Rumple, dear?"

"A lifetime of faithful service and all that jazz." Pulling out of his arms, she stuck her tongue out and stomped up the rest of the stairs, leaving him standing. "Told you, you couldn't possibly afford it, matey!"

Watching her go, Andy smiled to himself. We'll see." He murmured, rubbing the back of his neck with a smile. "We'll see." Turning at the call from behind him, he saw one of the stage managers waving frantically to him. Wandering over towards them, he gratefully took a tumbler of water from one. "What's up?"

"Feeling more confident?" A familiar voice said.

Turning to Menke, Andy grinned. "What do you think?" The older man nodded, his green eyes glittering. "I got through the Pekes and the Polls, so that's a relief. All my main numbers are out of the way now."

"So its time for the lazy second half?"

"I dunno...I still have the fight..." He shuddered, rolling his shoulders. "Do I really have to save Kashka from Tony?" He implored, glancing around to make sure she wasn't near. "Can't I let him take her off somewhere and kill her?"

"I think that might ruin the whole defeating-the-bad-guy vibe you've got going on." Menke laughed. "And I don't see the stage manager being too pleased if Munkustrap just sits down and files his claws while Demeter is being carted off by a madman."

"Who gives a monkeys what the stage managers say." Andy muttered huffily. "The stupid buggers put me opposite Kashka. If they wanted someone who would willingly rescue and snuggle with Kashka, they should have cast a block of ice."

Menke smiled faintly. "She does seem rather...uh..."

"Awkward? Uncompromising? Bitchy? Irritating? Snobby?"

"All of the above?"

Andy nodded. "I would even prefer to have one of the Jonson twins playing Demeter opposite me." He admitted wryly. "That's how much I don't want to be romantically involved with this actress' character."

"And I thought it was bad having to flirt with my sister-in-law when I was in the show..." Menke gave Andy a sympathetic look. "Look, I have to get back to the seat. If she gets too annoying, send her Tommy's way. I'm sure Red would love to help."

"Understatement of the century, man." Andy flashed a broad grin at the older dancer. "Enjoy the rest of the show and don't boo too loudly for me."

"You think I would even waste breath to boo?" Menke laughed. "I'll see you afterwards, okay?"

***

As always, Jordan and Rachel were the first felines on – aside from Old Deuteronomy – after the intermission. However, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser's entrance was one hundred percent more noticeable.

Hidden by the stove, Blue was peering out onto the stage when a finger and thumb sharply pinched her rear. With a squeal of surprise, Rumpleteaser shot out from behind the mattress, tumbling in four somersaults across the stage.

Landing on her tail, she rolled over and rubbed her offended rear with a pout. Behind her, Mungojerrie had scrambled out and was rolling on his back, pointing at her with his 'paw' and giggling hysterically.

Andy breezed towards the pair of them, after paying a tribute to Old Deuteronomy. He soothingly patted Blue's wig, then went on to catch Mungojerrie in a head-lock and give him a playful noogie as punishment for teasing his partner in crime.

Moving into place for The Moments Of Happiness, the two striped kittens shot dirty looks at one another across the stage, both receiving half-smiles from Munkustrap who was taking his place at the front of the stage centre.

In the audience, registered Munkuholic Annie Lawson was staring up at Munkustrap in delight as he halted on the stage in front of her, just before The Moments of Happiness, his eyes catching hers.

Almost smiling, but not quite, he draped his full length alone the stage in front of her. A glint of mischief sparkled in his eyes as he yawned and smacked his lips, waiting for Old Deuteronomy to start singing.

Reaching up, she scratched at his 'paw'. Cocking his head, he feigned indignation, pulling his hand back. Giving it a lick, he smoothed his 'head fur' and gave his head a little shake, smacking his lips once again and gazing majestically down at her.

As Old Deuteronomy started to sing, mismatched eyes rose and stared up at the light high above them, mimicking moonlight. His rapt expression made her wish she could snatch out her sketchpad without disturbing anyone.

Gazing beyond her during the quiet song, he slowly lowered his eyes to hers as Jemima sang her lines. Singing 'Moonlight, turn your face to the moonlight...' in the refrain of Jemima's part of the song, he sang directly to Annie.

Trying not to grin, she fanned herself with a hand. Andy's eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was taking stock of her. Faking a swoon, she saw the corner of his lip twitch in the threat of a smile, which never quite broke.

Rising to his feet with the rest of the cast, he waited until the song had finished, before taking a moment to bend and rub his head fur across her head. Then stalked back across towards the tyre, where he settled alongside Rumpleteaser and Electra, as opposed to his given position on the car boot with Demeter.

Annie blinked, grinned and received a wink from him as he let the two kittens cuddle up to him. 

Seated next to Benjamin, Andy let Blue curl around him, her arms crossed on his legs, her chin resting on her wrists. Electra immediately sought attention from him as well, coming to rest against his upper arm and rubbing her hand up and down the muscled biceps.

From the car boot, where she sat alone, Kashka scowled again.

***

Watching from the back of the stage during The Moments of Happiness, Blue had been delighted to notice Andy's mischievous antics were focusing Annie Lawson's attention entirely on him. 

Determined to change that, Blue made certain that she was in line of sight of the artist as often as she could. The pipe where she would hide during the Macavity scare was right in front of Annie and she wanted to make sure she would be heaped with an abundance of art to make her boyfriend jealous.

However, with Andy playing an absolutely delicious Munkustrap for a Munkustrap-lover, Blue was sadly coming to terms with the fact he would probably be receiving an abundance of art, while she wouldn't.

Between playing a Siamese and having a sneezing fit during Skimbleshanks, Blue only managed to embarrass 'Munkustrap' once, by holding tightly onto his leg and refusing to let go of it as 'Macavity' ran onto the stage.

Running to the side of the stage to mockingly laugh at Macavity, Andy had been forced to run with her clinging to him like a small, multi-coloured limpet. She was so light, he barely noticed it, until her hand snaked naughtily high.

Steering her away from his limbs, the stage was cleared in a matter of seconds. Darting from one side of the stage to the front as fast as she could, she hopped off the stage and scooted into the pipe opening, looking at the seat where Annie was sitting, eagerly watching Tommy and Kashka.

Annie spotted her instantly, bending at the waist to peer into the hole, holding out a hand to her. Blue grinned and edged out with all the demeanours of a nervous kitten, pausing to sniff at the proffered hand warily.

Cautiously rubbing her head across Annie's knee, she glanced up at the stage, shaking her wigged head as a hand scratched 'behind her ear'. Sometimes, the interaction was the best part of the show.

Settling between Annie's feet, she peered down at the bag beside her, peeking over her shoulder at Annie to make sure that she was getting away with whatever she planned to do. A buckle came undone and she peeked again. Annie was smiling.

Another buckle came undone.

She looked over at Annie again, eyes wide and innocent.

A large folder thumped out onto the floor and fell open.

Still, huge blue eyes stared innocently at Annie, as nimble fingers flicked through the pages, finding the Etcetera pages and carefully slipped into the polypocket to grip the picture she had found, slowly starting to withdraw it from the folder.

"Hey!" Annie hissed, giving her a light prod.

With an angelic, hurt look, Blue swatted at the offending hand. She glanced down at the folder once more and then bounced up, cheekily waving her dainty rear in Annie's direction, flicking her tail and leaping onto the stage on cue to join in the raunchy dance routine, swiveling her narrow hips with a flexibility that seemed nigh impossible.

For once, every male in the vicinity was quiet, eyes fixated on the unmissable bouncing, flipping, springing, cart-wheeling bundle of super-hyperactive energy in the guise of the tiny form of Rumpleteaser.

It went without saying that the smallest dancer in the cast had made quite an impression on the assembled die-harders.

***

Carefully spiking her hair up, Blue blinked at her reflection, touching up her detailed eye make-up that highlighted her pale blue eyes. Grinning, she replaced all her rings and studs into her pierced nose, ears and navel.

A blue stud shone at her nose, a gift from her boyfriend. He had insisted that she wear it all the time, but management had not been amused to find their punk Etcetera wanted to wear nose-jewelry during the show.

"Ready to go, gorgeous?" Slipping a toned arm around her waist, the resident new Munkustrap nuzzled her neck, his long brown hair ticklishly brushing against her shoulders and the top of her back.

Arching her back against him, she smiled brightly, rubbing her head against his. "I suppose so." She grabbed her jacket, pulling it on. Taking his hand in hers, she gave a sigh of mock-boredom. "Let's go and face the screaming masses, love."

"At least I'm not wearing a dress." Andy noted dryly. His scruffy jeans and ancient Lion King T-shirt had apparently been successfully dried during the show.

"What about underwear?"

Andy gave her a devilish look. "I'll let you find that out later, love." Blue's ears went pink again and she grinned broadly. "Oh God...you're in that kind of mood, aren't you?" A pained look crossed his face. "You didn't tell me I was banned from yours...that's always a bad sign..."

"Never mind that now, big guy." Catching his hands behind her, she led the charge for the door. Running lightly down the stairs to explode out the stage door, the duo hurtled around to the front door where the crowds were still filing out.

Looking around at the group, she scratched her nose, staring at the group, as she scribbled on the programmes of some of the fans. "Dost my eyes deceive me?" She gasped, blinking. "Do I see the illusive Annie Lawson?"

Stepping forward, Annie blushed and held out a painting. "I did this for you after seeing you as Etcetera, Blue." Opening the folder, she handed the dancer a picture of herself that was most definitely identifiable as her. "I did actually think you were cute until you started ransacking my art folder."

"Whoa!" Staring at it, Blue reverently took it, speechless. "Its gorgeous! Are you sure you want to give it up, Annie? I mean, it looks like it took you a long time to do it."

"I did it for you." Annie insisted, her cheeks scarlet. "Can I get a picture of you with it?"

"Surely! Just give me a minute okay..." Blue was looking passed Annie at a tall man with hair as long as Andy's. "So you decided to stick out the rest of the show?"

"Naturally." Annie's eyes went wide and she spun around. 

"Menke?"

"Annie?" The dancer lunged forward, grabbing the artist and wrapping her up in a hug. "What the heck are you doing here, girl? I thought you would have quit coming the day I stopped playing Munkustrap!"

"Nice to see you're as modest as ever."

"So you two know each other?"

Annie smiled broadly. "This twit introduced me to my boyfriend." She replied, her arm around Menke's waist. "He also played one of the best Munkustraps I've seen in my life and I've seen a lot of Munkustraps."

"Ahem?" Menke gave her a gentle shake. "What do you mean by 'one of the best', Miss Lawson? In case you had appropriately forgotten, I am..." He struck a dramatic pose. "Simply the best!"

"Again, we have trouble dealing in modesty." Annie laughed. "I have to say that tonight's Munkustrap was bloody good and so pretty..." She looked at Andy and inquired. "When do you start playing him?"

The chorus of laughter from Menke, Andy and Blue made Annie frown in confusion.

"Annie, my dear, dear, naive darling," Menke shook his head, chuckling. "Tonight, you had the privilege of seeing Andy, here, playing Munkustrap for the first time, with some insane coaching from yours truly..."

The artist's jaw sagged. "You're kidding."

"Nope! I'm Munkustrap!" Andy cocked his head and grinned at her. "Could you imagine anyone else having such pretty eyes?" He batted his lashes, making his girlfriend snort. "So, what did you think? Am I Munk material? Tommy didn't think so and I won her over."

"I think..." She stared at his face closely for a long moment, then replied. "I think I need to get a new sketch pad."

Menke laughed. "It starts..."

***

"I hurt."

"After all that time in rehearsal?" Andy was slumped on his belly on Blue's bed, fresh from the shower, one arm dangling over the side, his face crushed against the pillow. "I don't blame you, big guy."

The petite dancer was wearing a huge Cats T-shirt and was wandering around the bedroom, putting away various pieces of body jewelry. Her damp hair was mussed and standing on end as usual.

His eyes half-closed, the dancer tried to find the energy to lift his limp arm onto the bed, but failed miserably. Dripping tendrils of hair stuck to his face, but he couldn't even be bothered to move to brush them back.

"Want me to rub it better?" Blue offered, removing her eighth ear ring and depositing it on her desk carefully. Andy managed to grunt an assent.

Straddling the base of his back, she settled her weight comfortably back against his rear, laying her small hands on his back. Rubbing her little fingers up over the tense, tired muscles, she smiled as he groaned softly.

"Good?"

"Great." He mumbled around a mouthful of pillow.

Kneading and caressing Andy's exhausted body, she felt him gradually relax beneath her, his heavy, tired breathing becoming softer and lighter. His eyes drooped shut, the hand clenched on the pillow going limp.

At the first snore, she leaned forward and gently stroked his hair back from his face and touched a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Sliding off his body, she rolled him carefully onto his side, slowly so she wouldn't wake him. A tired sigh escaped him as she awkwardly lifted his hip, untucking her duvet from beneath him and positioning it over his body. 

Moving to the light switch, she flicked it off, then returned to the bed, sliding under the covers beside him and drawing one arm around her waist.

Cuddling against him, she felt his chin coming to rest lightly against the top of her head and smiled as she closed her eyes. Her fingers lingered on the sinewy width of his forearm as she nestled closer.

"Night Andy." She whispered, as sleep crept closer. "I love you."

And as sleep took her, she was convinced she heard a husky whisper of "Love you too." 


	9. The Cast - Part 9 - Prima Donna

"So you're our new Victoria?" Standing beside the new girl in the rehearsal rooms, Tommy cast her eyes speculatively over the slender Asian dancer. "I played Vicci, years ago, just when I got into musicals."

"This is my first West End show, but I've done a lot of regional dancing. Who knows...I could be stealing your roles five years down the line..." With a friendly smile, the girl shifted on her feet, lifting one, then the other to put her dance shoes on. "Who do you play?"

"You ever seen the show?" The new dancer nodded. "I'm Bombalurina, the red cat." She struck a sexy pose. "Not that it's at all obvious."

Geeta laughed. "Not in the least." She stripped off the sweater she was wearing, leaving her body clad in a shimmering, sleeveless, dark red leotard and loose shorts. Long, lean legs rippled as she crossed the floor to add her sweater to the heap of clothing. "So why did my predecessor leave?"

"Well," Tommy grinned. "She got herself up the creek."

"Pregnant?"

"Big time." Tying her substitute tail loosely around her waist, Tommy swung it casually in her hands as she spoke. "First time she's managed a natural conception and she didn't want to risk anything going wrong this time."

"Think I'll be okay as her sub?"

Tommy rubbed her cheek pensively. "I don't know, kid. I'd have to see your form." She circled Geeta with a clinical eye. "How high can you manage your leg lift? Do you struggle to keep it up when you're turning?"

"Want to see?" The girl's shorts flew across the room, to land on the heap of discarded clothing. Tommy's grin widened.

Balancing neatly on one foot, Geeta slowly brought both arms and her right leg up, the leg bent loosely at the knee. Stretching towards the roof, she straightened her leg, until she looked like she was doing an upright version of the splits.

Pivoting easily on her foot, she turned one hundred and eighty degrees, extending her right leg at right angles to her body, then slid down into the splits on the smooth floor, arching back over her left thigh.

Running her eyes over the girl's arched torso, Tommy's lavicious grin widened. "Very nice, Geeta." She murmured, eyeing the contours of the young dancer's small, firm breasts and her tight pectoral muscles. Her eyes wandered down Geeta's sleek legs. "Very nice, indeed."

"TOMMY!" The shrill squeal from the warm-up room door made both dancers whip around. A tiny, blue-haired dancer stormed towards the oriental-looking dancer, who was looking sheepish. "That was bad! That was very bad!"

"But I just wanted to check her form." Tommy whined, her eyes dancing with mischief.

"Yeah...check out her form...like you did to me...what would Sylvie say if she knew you were checking out the fresh talent?" She turned to Geeta, who had risen to her feet and was looking confused. "Sorry about Tommy, here. She's a lavicious old cow who likes to prey on younger and more innocent dancers."

Tommy wiggled her fingers in a guilty wave, biting her lip to hide a wide grin. "Looks like I've been caught out." She murmured, not looking the least bit guilty about it.

"You mean...?"

"She was checking you out." Blue positioned herself carefully between the two dancers, smiling faintly. "Hope you don't mind. Everyone gets the Tommy once-over, especially if they're cute, Asian or blonde and female."

Geeta's brow rose. "Ah..." A lop-sided grin crept onto her lips. "If my father knew I was working here, he would have a fit. One, I'm baring all my limbs and two, I have a woman checking me out..."

"And he wouldn't approve?" Tommy wrapped her arms around Blue's neck, hugging her roommate back against her chest.

"He's...uh...very religious, in the kind of woman-hide-under-sheets religious sense." She rubbed the back of her neck. "He moved here from Saudi Arabia when he was twenty and he's never quite understood Western culture."

"So sending him photos of you in unitards, flashing your legs would be a bad thing?"

"In a word? Yes." She shuddered. "I can see me being packed off to the family in Saudi to marry a man I'd never met. Its only because my mother is English that I've been allowed to stay here and be raised as a British citizen."

"Does he know you dance?"

Geeta grimaced. "Not yet. He thinks that I'm some kind of accountant. Mind you, he also thinks I wear a burkha twenty-four-seven. I only ever wear those things when I'm at home, back in Bradford."

"Once again, I am delighted to be estranged from my family." Tommy pulled a face. Turning Blue's face to hers, she dropped a light kiss on her lips. "If I'd kept my sexuality a secret, I would still be miserable there and I wouldn't have a great girlfriend or roommate or non-poofter to irritate."

"So you two...?"

"Us two?"

"Are you two a couple?" Both Tommy and Blue released a shout of laughter. "I take it that's a big no."

Pivoting to hug Tommy around the waist, Blue grinned. "We live together, but Tom's like a big, nice, adopty sister to me." The taller woman fondly stroked the girl's blue hair. "If I was ever going to be a lesbian, I'd happily take Tommy or her girlfriend."

"Or both." Tommy added, a wicked twinkle in her dark eyes. Blue grinned, nudging the top of her head against Tommy's chest. "And I know that neither of us would complain to having a third kicking around..."

"I might have to take you up on that." Geeta murmured, both of the other dancers gaping at her in surprise. The new Victoria's face split into a gap-toothed grin. "See. I can surprise people as well."

"Everyone here?" A voice bellowed.

"Oh God..." Tommy moaned. "Not him again. I thought he'd left."

The male leading the rehearsals clearly heard her and flashed a cocky grin in her direction. "I think we'll start with Macavity today, boys and girls." He drawled, pulling his black and silver hair up into a ponytail. A scowl from Kashka quickly changed that. "Or...we could start with the invitation, couldn't we?"

***

Almost a week and a half had passed since Andy had assumed the role of Munkustrap, which he was still sharing with Menke. The older actor took the matinee shows, while Andy took the other six, until he was used to the strain of the role and could play it for all the shows.

Happily hanging around at the theatre again, Menke had taken up the joint role of prankster along with Andy, both of them getting into all manner of trouble with the management for not taking their jobs seriously. 

At one point, Andy had been forced to understudy Tony, to play Macavity opposite Menke's Munkustrap, one matinee. With Kashka trapped between them, they had both been unable to prevent themselves from cracking up.

It went without saying that Kashka was not in the best of moods with them, following the show. The actress had been growing increasingly frustrated, struggling to keep her temper with the two actors.

Adding Tommy to the equation only made the actress more irritable. Frequently, she missed steps, lost her place or hit a bad note and it wasn't going unnoticed by the stage managers and the rest of the cast.

Entering the common area, Blue was wearing her favourite tracksuit and trainers, ready for warm-ups for the Saturday matinee. She had been sent out to the shops to get some junkfood for Menke and her boyfriend, both of whom spent their time between shows rehearsing.

The morning of rehearsals had been exhausting as they had brought the new Victoria up to speed on the routines. In addition to those rehearsals, Menke and Andy had been checking and re-checking each other's styles, practising like demons.

Looking around, she couldn't smother a laugh. Side-by-side on one of the couches, Menke and Andy were sitting, both clad in the Munkustrap costume and make-up. Menke's wig was the only thing missing, his hair loose around his face. Andy's be-wigged head was resting against the older man's head.

What made it even more adorable was that both men were fast asleep, their feet propped on the low coffee table in front of them, leaning against one another, their arms crossed in an identical position. Andy was in his full costume from going down to the kids club, between bouts of rehearsal.

"Aren't they just the cutest!" Raymond exclaimed. He had been to the nearest MacDonalds with Blue and stopped short at the sight of the two actors. "Oh, I could just pick 'em both up and hug 'em!"

Blue grinned. "Go ahead. I've got popcorn."

"Don't even think about it." Malcolm put in, nudging his boyfriend's hip. "Those arms are only used to hug one person around here."

"Who?" Blue deposited her bag of food on the nearby chair and flung her short arms as far around Raymond as she could. "Me?" The huge dancer issued a deep, booming laugh and practically picked the little dancer up in a hug. "See! He wuvs me, Mal!"

Malcolm gave her his expressionless, calm look. "I don't think he would do half the things to you that he's done to me, tiny." There was a devilish glint in his pale blue eyes and Raymond quickly released Blue to take a step closer to Malcolm, bending to fiercely kiss his lover.

"You think that's meant to shock me?" Blue cocked her head. "Andy's done more than that to me on...oh!" Only then did she become aware of just where Raymond's hand had disappeared to and a flush of crimson rose up her face.

Breaking from the kiss, Malcolm's cheeks took on a rosy tint beneath his deathly white make-up, a half-grin on his face. Turning to Blue, he cleared his throat. "You going to wake up sleeping beauty and his friend?"

"Uh..." Hurriedly crossing to Andy, she sat down in his lap, giving him a shake. "Andy?" He grunted, shifting. Beside him, Menke stirred groggily and swatted at him, before settling down comfortably again. "Andy, wake up."

"Don't think that's going to work, shrimpy." The Goth dancer snickered, coming to sit opposite the two sleeping Munkustraps. Blue gave him a speculative look, her hand spread on Andy's broad chest.

A sparkle glittered in her blue eyes, as she straddled her boyfriend's lap. "Munkustrap," She purred, scratching her fingers down his chest. "Oh, Munkustrap, wake up..." Both Menke and Andy's brows wrinkled at the voice.

Nuzzling Andy's neck, she lazily kissed his throat, her hands still running up and down his chest. Andy's hands moved of their own accord, rubbing up and down her lean thighs as she continued to murmur to him.

"Wakey, wakey, lover. Demeter is waiting." Bringing her face to his, she touched her lips to Andy's, kneading his shoulders with her knuckles. Nipping his lower lip with her neat, white teeth, she pressed against him. "C'mon, sleepy head."

"Demi?" Dozily, Menke levered himself upright using Andy's chest and looked blearily around the dressing area. "Demi?"

"Afternoon, Menke." Cuddled against Andy's chest, her small body melded against his larger one, Blue gave the older dancer a smile. "Just me trying to wake up Mister Snoozy here." A mumbled grunt from Andy made her chuckle. "He'll be with us in a minute."

As predicted, mismatched eyes slowly opened seconds later, Andy's muscled arms coming up to engulf Blue's body. Tilting her face up, he pressed a warm kiss to her lips, then settled down to hug her, his chin resting on her head.

"Now," He mumbled sleepily, his eyes still half-closed. "Why can't I have a Demeter who would snuggle up to me like this during the show, instead of one who has the sex-appeal of a glacier?"

"That's not nice!" Menke protested. Andy opened one eye, raising a cynical brow. Menke gave a dignified sniff. "I happen to know some very sexy glaciers."

"You would, you sad, strange individual." The brown-haired dancer replied.

"Hey, at least Kashka doesn't look like she wants to castrate me when I put my arms around her." The older dancer argued.

Blue raised a hand. "Menke, you haven't actually seen her face, when you hug her." The green eyes narrowed in puzzlement. "Castration is probably one of the pleasanter fates she has in mind for you."

"I suppose that water balloon on her seat was rather immature." He grimaced.

"Yeah," Malcolm, around a mouthful of cold French fries, said. "And doing it three days in a row wasn't at all."

Menke looked hurt. "Hey! After the second time, you'd think she would learn to look before she sat down." He pouted, then turned and held out his arms. "Andy, give her. I need something to hug."

Before either of the actors had a chance to move, Menke found a very large, very strong, very giggly black dancer happily seated squarely in his lap. Raymond batted his eyes coquettishly, smiling broadly.

Menke stared at him for a long moment. "Oh well," He laughed. "What the hell." He threw his arms around Raymond and hid his face in the massive, muscular chest. Exaggerated sobs escaped him and he jiggled Raymond's huge frame on his knee.

"You know, Ray," Malcolm remarked, sucking some cola up a straw. "You really look like you're enjoying that far too much."

"Look, hon?" The black dancer's grin was spread from ear to ear. "I don't need to look it." He ruffled Menke's long hair. "Sweetie, just keep doin' what you're doin' and I might even think about payin' you for it."

Menke lifted his face and grinned. "You really are easily pleased, aren't you?"

"You think any big ol' queen is gonna complain about being jiggled by a hottie like you? I don't think so, sweetie." He paused for a moment. "Mind you, if I had to choose between you and Tommy-gal, I don't think I could."

"Reassuring." Andy muttered. "Oh so reassuring."

Raymond just grinned and enjoyed the 'jiggling'.

***

"I don't give a damn about the show. Give me five minutes and I'll be out the door." Tear-rimmed eyes stared defiantly at the manager. "I want out. Now."

"And you didn't think to tell us this more than half an hour before the show?" Standing up and leaning on the desk, the grey-haired Henry Jamieson released a sigh of frustration. "Damn it, Kashka, you could have given us more notice."

"You've got all the understudies you need." She snapped angrily. "I'm not going on again. I refuse to work with either of those...those idiots." She folded her arms, her ash-blonde swaying around her face, her dark grey eyes furious. "You can't force me to."

"You're acting like a child, Kashka. This is ridiculous." Assuming his most wheedling and sympathetic tone, the senior manager sat back down. "I'm sure if we talked to Andy and Menke, we could sort this out."

She glared at him. "I am not a child." She said coldly. "You can talk to them all you want. I refuse to work with either of them. I used to enjoy this job, until they came along, but now, I hate every second. Even you've noticed that I'm not up to my normal standard."

"Well, that is true...but you've got a contract."

She looked down at her slim, crossed arms, her lips pursed in a tight expression. "I have three months left. If I have to, I'll go and contract some illness. Give me any excuse and I'll be out of here. I'm bored to death, I don't want to play against the rest of the crew. They hate me and I hate them."

"But we don't have understudies ready!"

"Mara was my understudy for months. Tell her she's on."

"At this short notice?" Jamieson shook his head. "If you leave, we'll have to cast someone new as soon as possible...God knows where we'll find someone. Can't you at least stay for a few more days...?"

"I'm not staying a day longer." She brushed her shoulder-length hair back from her face. "I stayed extra because you asked and now, my times up. I've had offers from TV companies and I want to take them."

"But your contract..."

"Screw the contract." Standing up, she threw a white envelope down on the desk. "In there is my letter of resignation. I will never enter this building again to perform in this show, as long as I know any of them are here."

Turning, the actress stormed towards the door, slamming it behind her with enough force to make paint flake from the hinges. The manager stared after her for a long moment, then glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Bugger..."

Snatching up the phone, he called down to the stage door, demanding the whereabouts of Mara Jensen, a young Norwegian dancer. With Kashka's impeccable record of attendance, the girl had never been called to play Demeter in her whole two years.

Sending for her, he sat back in his seat, releasing a heavy sigh. This was just what he needed now, he mused. First, Munkustrap went and broke his shoulder, putting himself out of the picture for months. One contract out of the window thanks to that.

Then, Victoria left, pregnant. She was unlikely to return. Two contracts blown away.

Gil Howard, who played Victor and understudied several roles, had tearfully announced that he was leaving for several months, to go back to Belgium and stay with his mother, who had just told him she was dying of lung cancer. Compassionate leave had been granted, Gil being her youngest son and her precious baby.

Three male swing roles were cancelled, one leaving to go on tour, another certified and locked up in a loony bin, the third assuming the role of Munkustrap. That meant they had one male swing left and the Deuteronomy and Gus understudy.

One of the female swings was off for an undetermined period with glandular fever. Another had badly broken several fingers, after falling off the car and landing badly on the stage several nights before, playing Rumpleteaser.

Now, to lose Demeter on top of all that...and it was Kashka to boot. She was the most famous member of their cast at this moment in time, a TV actress and she had also appeared in several films. 

Henry pressed his fingertips against his temples.

Perfect. Just bloody perfect.

"Hello?" A pig-tailed head poked around the door. "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

"Miss Jensen?" She nodded and he rose, motioning for her to take a seat. "We've just had some rather unfortunate news, so I need to know how well you know the role of Demeter."

Blinking owlishly from behind thick, black-rimmed spectacles, she frowned slightly. "I know the role, sir." She replied carefully, rubbing her palms together nervously. "I have never played her before."

"Would you be able and ready to play her in an hour?" Mara's ice-blue eyes went wide with astonishment. "Kashka's left us for the time being, so we need you on that stage playing her, as soon as you're ready."

"I-I can try." She nodded, her face suddenly very pale. "I have only played Cassandra and Tantomile before."

"You can sing the role?" She nodded uncomfortably, biting her lower lip. "And you know the dance routine?" Again, she nodded. "Well, then you are the most qualified swing to assume the role." He gave her what was meant to be a reassuring smile, but it looked more mad that comforting. "You'll do fine."

"Shall I go now?"

"Yes, yes! Of course! If you need any help, just ask someone." Looking terrified and ill, the girl fled out of the office, as Jamieson picked up the folder of agents, to see if they had any of the ex-Demeters available.

***

"So you're just going to sit around in that all day?"

"What? Its comfortable."

Blue rolled her eyes, her boyfriend standing just behind her, still in his unitard. Beside her, Tommy was adding her nose. Georgina was seated on Blue's other side, blowing bubblegum bubbles at her reflection. Blue, meanwhile, was donning her make-up with a familiar rapidity, adding kitten-spots across the pale cream colour of her nose.

"E-excuse me?"

"Yep?" Both women turned. Blue grinned. "Hey, Mara! You're on tonight?"

"Yeah...short notice..."A panicked-looking young woman with long, brown pigtails stared hopelessly in at them. "I-I'm not sure what my make-up is meant to look like." She was holding the pattern on the sheet. "I can't read her writing."

Adding a last spot on her nose, Blue swung off her seat, climbing over Georgina. "Who is it you're playing?"

"Demeter."

Tommy's brushes and paints clattered across the desk accompanied by a series of somewhat rude words, a thick black smear squirming across her face. The cup of water Andy had been drinking from splattered on the floor. A loud expletive escaped Georgina.

"Uh...what?"

"Kashka's off?" Tommy was staring at Mara, a manic expression of delight in her dark eyes.

Mara shook her head. "I-I was speaking to Mr Jamieson. She's not off." Several confused looks were exchanged. "She-she's gone."

"Gone?" Tommy breathed, eyes wide with glee. "Kashka, the bitch-bane and biggest torment of my existence, is gone?"

"As in gone, gone?" Andy repeated, clasping his hands together hopefully.

"You do mean completely gone?" Georgina echoed.

Mara could only nod helplessly. "I don't know what happened, but Mr. Jamieson was looking a bit crazy when I saw him." She looked down at the sheet in her hands. "He told me I have to play Demeter. I've never played her before. What if I screw up? I haven't had a major singing role since I had my tonsils out, last year."

"You'll do great, Mara." Blue gave her hand a squeeze. "You're playing opposite Menke and he'll help you along if you need it. Tommy will as well." The taller dancer nodded. "If you need a hand, I could do your make-up for you. I spent enough time staring at Kashka to freak her out to be able do it for someone else."

"I would be very grateful." The dancer gave the blue-haired girl a watery grin. "You have no idea how terrified I am."

"I think I can imagine." Taking the brunette's arm, the two went off in the direction of Mara's shared dressing room. 

The small dressing room was silent for several seconds, then Tommy and Andy released whoops of delight, hugging one another and bouncing up and down like children at a pop concert, laughing. 

"We should tell Menke!" Andy said. "He'll be over the moon."

"Who won't be?" Tommy's grin was blinding. "I say that we make an announcement ...bags I get to say..."

Before she finished, Andy had barreled through to the common area, yelling at the top of his voice. "KASHKA'S GONE!"

"Bastard!"

***

Unfortunately, the show didn't go as smoothly as the cast initially hoped. While Mara could play the character well and could do the dance routines to perfection, she had one serious flaw that no one could miss.

Her voice.

In the middle of the previous year, she had been struck down by a serious dose of tonsilitis and her tonsils had been removed right away. After three weeks off, she was back at work. It had been assumed that her voice wouldn't be too seriously affected. They had been mistaken.

In the wake of her illness, she had played minor roles constantly. Cassandra and Tantomile only had small singing parts, but upgrading to the main singing role of Demeter proved to be simply too much.

By the middle of the show, her throat was raw and every member of the cast winced in sympathy each time she had to sing. Struggling on many of the higher notes, her voice wavered and sometimes faded out, forcing her to clear her throat repeatedly.

As soon as she could get off the stage after _The Jellicle Ball_, she had run to her dressing room, downing glasses of water. By the time Tommy and Menke had reached the rooms, she had her face buried in her arms and was sobbing.

"Hon, are you okay?"

"I can't go back on!" Gathered in the red-garbed dancer's arms, Mara's shoulders were shaking with silent, gulping sobs. "I feel like my mouth keeps filling with blood every time I sing a note. It hurts to sing. I can't go back on...I can't sing Macavity, not like this...I can't sing anymore...I can't sing anymore..."

Tommy hugged the younger dancer tighter, raising her eyes to Menke. "Get Rachel. Tell her she's got to go on as Dem for the second half. She doesn't even have to be able to do the routines well, but I'm not letting Mara go on in this state." She stroked the Norwegian's cheek soothingly. "The only place she's going is the doctor."

"What about the management?" Menke asked.

Tommy smiled coldly. "If the management complain, they'll lose Bomba as well and they really don't need that." She gestured for him to go, holding Mara gently against her and rocking her in a comforting manner.

She was still holding the girl, when Rachel raced in, halfway out of her Tantomile unitard. "Is she okay?" She panted, dodging around the pair to get to the make-up desk.

"I think the kid needs the doctor, ASAP." Tommy replied. "Something's gone seriously wrong with her throat."

Rachel grimaced, grabbing several baby wipes and wiping off her make-up as fast as she could. "All this cos Kashka had a stick rammed so far up her arse that it blocked her brain and she couldn't think about someone else."

"This might be a dumb question, Rach, but have you ever played Deme?"

The wigless dancer looked at her. "Now that you ask, no, I haven't, but I've played around with the role. I know the words and can bluff for the dance routines." She looked down at her own unitard. "Um, do you know where I can get a Dem unitard? I don't have a Dem costume."

"Kashka's is next door." Standing up with Mara, Tommy directed the younger girl towards the door. "I'll be back in five. I have to get this little lady around to the medics to see what they can do about her."

"You make me sound like I'm contagious." Mara croaked.

"Hon, you most certainly are." Taking the young dancer down to the room that the medics and physios used, Tommy made sure she was comfortable with a lot of soothing throat remedies, before heading back towards her dressing room.

On the way passed the toilets, she came to a sharp stop. A female voice rang out from the ladies room and was huskily singing Macavity in perfect pitch and in tune, but it wasn't a voice that she recognised. 

Darting towards the dressing rooms, she found a make-up-less Andy, just back in from MacDonalds. "Andy!" Grabbing him by the arm, she dragged him back up towards the bathrooms, gesturing for him to be quiet.

"What?"

"Listen!" She hissed.

Andy cocked his head, his brows rising, clearly impressed. "Is that Joely?"

"I don't think so." Looking around, she grinned. "Let's take a peek. If it's one of the crew, we run for cover and never speak of this again." Andy shook his head with a chuckle as she carefully pushed the door open, both of them edging in.

The voice rose to a shrill soprano. "MACAVITY'S NOT THERE!" Andy shivered at the tingle shooting down his spine. Tommy nodded approvingly. Whoever it was, they could match Kashka's voice, if not better it.

Both of them peered around the dividing wall, both of them swearing as one in utter shock.

The small figure whipped around, her expression that of a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. "Crap!" Darting back into the cubicle, the door slammed shut and was locked quickly from the inside.

"Get your arse out here right this second!" Tommy marched to the door, rapping smartly on it.

"You weren't meant to hear that."

Despite initial wariness, Andy hurried over as well. "Come out, shorty. What's wrong with us hearing you sing like that?"

There was a thump as Blue leaned against the back of the door. "No one knew." She replied quietly. "I like trying to sing with a big voice, because I'll never be big. I know I'm not any good at it, but I like to try. I have to sing like Rumple and Cettie cos I look like that."

"But you're good."

"No, I'm not."

Tommy sighed. "Okay, you're not good, then." She slapped her palm against the door. "You, kid, are so effing good, you're making me sick with envy."

"Even if I am good," The latch was slipped and the door opened. Blue looked from one to the other, a sad half-smile on her lips. "It won't make any difference. I'm just too small for playing any big characters."

Tommy and Andy exchanged glances, seeming to think as one, both exchanging wicked grins over Blue's bowed head. "Never mind that now, Shorty." Andy caught her in a hug. "Let's get you back to the stage. You're due on any minute."

"Enjoy your break, you lazy git." She returned his hug, then joined Tommy to hurry back to the dressing rooms to retrieve Rachel in her hastily-donned Demeter make-up, Georgina dolled-up as a small, dainty Tantomile.

Tommy cast her eye over both of them. "Oh, I see this as being a whole lot of fun." She muttered, hurrying towards the stairs with them. "A Tanto-Dem and and Electra-Tanto. Two combinations that sound like varieties of dildo..."

"Tommy!" All three of her companions wailed.

***

"Can't you even listen to her?"

Jamieson looked across and up at Andy, who was standing, his fists balled on the surface of the desk. The manager had papers scattered around and had been ringing up different agents for the last two hours.

So far, none of their past Demeters had been available and now, here was their current Munkustrap saying that their current Etcetera would be a great Demeter.

"She's less that five feet tall."

"You've never set a height specification for Demeter." Andy reminded him quietly. "You took Kashka on, even though she was taller than average. Hell, she was near enough the same height as Tommy."

Henry exhaled a breath. "As talented as Miss Spence might be, I doubt she would have the strength to carry off the role of Demeter." Laying down a sheaf of papers, he met the dancer's mismatched eyes evenly. "It is very demanding on both voice and body." "I am aware of this." Andy gritted out. "But I know for a fact that she used to dance six hours a night for a living, so strenuous means nothing to her. Her voice is incredible and she sounds very similar to Kashka." 

That got Jamieson's full attention for the first time. "Is that so?"

"Look, Mr. Jamieson, I know that she would make a very good Demeter and it doesn't look like you're going to find one any time soon, even if you ring all ex-Demeters via their agents." He spread his hands. "What will you do if you can't find one?"

"In which case, we will simply audition for a new one. Kashka's understudy can keep the role going until we find one."

"In case you hadn't heard, Kashka's understudy can no longer sing. The medics have ordered her to the hospital because she burst a blood vessel in her throat during the first half of the show." Jamieson looked up, startled. Clearly that little piece of news hadn't reached him yet.

"I wasn't aware it was that serious."

"She probably won't sing again, professionally." The dancer replied. "Rachel Majors was forced to assume the role of Demeter, even though she has never even rehearsed it." Andy's voice was shaking slightly from underlying anger at the man's sheer stubborn pettyness. "Blue knows all the lyrics and the full routine. All she needs is an opportunity."

"And you believe I should be the one to give her it?"

"Well, let me put it this way. For this evenings show, there's no Demeter and there's a good chance you'll have a mute Tantomile, because Rachel isn't used to singing so much. It won't surprise me if she loses her voice by this evening. You're not going to find anyone else and both Demeter understudies are on sick leave." Andy smiled tightly. "And at least with Blue as Demeter, you can guarantee both Bombalurina and Munkustrap would like her."

Leaning back in his seat, Jamieson looked up at the younger man. "And if I do give her the chance to play Demeter, who will play Etcetera?"

"Georgina knows all the kitten roles well and would be able to play Etcetera if she had to. Also, the female kitten understudy, Marsha, is one of the only swings still available." Andy smothered a delighted smile. "At least, that way, you're guaranteed a full ensemble."

Henry almost smiled. "You have clearly put a great deal of thought into this."

"About five minutes," Andy shrugged. "Which is pretty high by my standards." He tilted his head. "So you'll consider it?"

"Have her in the rehearsal room after the show finishes." Jamieson retrieved the wad of papers, flicking them open again. "If she is good enough, she may take the role tonight, but only for tonight unless we can't find another Demeter."

"That, sir, is good enough for me." With a broad smile, Andy reached over and shook the manager's hand. "Thank you."

***

The piano loomed in the corner of the room. The lights were still flickering on, illuminating the paneled floors of the wide room. No one was there, a light rain pelting against the windows set high in the wall.

Standing in the doorway with Andy, Blue looked up at him nervously. "What am I here for?"

"Mr. Jamieson wants to see you." He replied with a smile. The petite dancer was still wearing her Etcetera wig and make-up, the rest of her body clad in one of the extra-large Cats t-shirts from the stall. It hung passed her knees, her feet cased in cat-shaped slippers.

"Mr. Jamieson?" She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Andy, what have you done?"

The dancer shrugged with as innocent a look as he could manage. "I just happened to mention that you were a bloody good singer..." He cleared his throat and mumbled under his breath. "And that I thought you should play Dem."

"ANDY!" Turning, she would have fled down the passage, if she hadn't bumped squarely into Henry Jamieson and the company pianist. "Oh! H-hello, Mr. Jamieson, sir."

"Sara Spence, I presume? Or shall I just call you Blue?"

"I-I don't mind, sir." Stepping back, she deliberately slammed her foot down with unnecessary force on Andy's toes. "Most people just call me Blue."

He nodded, gesturing for the pianist to go the piano. "Tommy said she will be along in a moment." He eyed her slippers and the baggy T-shirt. "You don't happen to have anything more...appropriate for dancing in?"

"I like rehearsing barefoot. It's one of my habits." She replied nervously, hastily tugging the T-shirt over her head to reveal a sports bra and a loose pair of shorts. Smoothing her shorts down, she looked down at her tattooed belly sheepishly. "Uh...and I forgot about that."

Jamieson looked at the flaming circle on her muscled belly and the small beaded ring that was looped through the belly button. His eyebrow rose slightly, but he said nothing. Clearly he wasn't impressed by what he had seen so far.

"Hey, people." A throaty voice remarked from the door. "What's the buzz? I was in the lavvy, when someone yelled I was needed along here." She looked at Andy, then at Blue, who was uneasily shifting from foot to foot. "Kid?" Blue's eyes snapped to her. "C'mere."

Darting to Tommy's side, Blue pressed against her, drawing a calming breath, comforted by her friend's touch. "Tom...do you think I can be Dem?"

"Kid, look at you." The tall dancer smiled, bending slightly to brush her brow gently against Blue's, one arm loosely around the petite dancer's waist. They had unconsciously struck the ideal Bombalurina-Demeter pose. "You'll be perfect."

"Perhaps we should actually hear her sing, first." Jamieson suggested coolly, receiving a glare from Tommy.

Straightening in her friend's arms, Blue nodded. "I can do that." She replied, giving Tommy a confident smile. "Are we going to do Macavity?" She ran her head lazily against Tommy's arm and sighed. "I love Macavity."

"I suppose we might as well start there, as it is Demeter's main part."

In a heartbeat, the small dancer's whole stance and demeanour completely shifted. No longer crouching down, in her familiar kitten pose, her back was straight, her chin lifted proudly, a small, enigmatic smile on her lips.

"That's my girl." Andy whispered, moving to stand against the wall, as the pianist started to play the introduction for Macavity.

From the start, she slipped straight into the character of Demeter, darting this way and that across the floor in fear. As the song progressed and she sang, she became sultry and seductive as she described the criminal that she was meant to despise.

When Tommy started her section of the song, she could barely sing for the wide smile that split her face from ear-to-ear, her eyes dancing. As their voices melded together, they were a perfect foil for one another.

Seeing his lover, as Etcetera, singing Macavity was enough to make Andy chuckle, but the second she hit the high notes, he felt goosebumps rising on his skin. Rolling her body, laying emphasis on all the right places, she oozed sensuality to match her outrageous roommate.

Finishing the song, Blue looked up at Tommy with a broad smile. Andy applauded as loudly as he dared, receiving a happy grin before Blue darted over to the pianist and flicked through the pages of music.

"Oh man..." Andy breathed as the first chords of Grizabella the Glamour Cat rang out. Looking in the direction of an unseen Grizabella, Blue counted herself in, running forward to reach out to the fallen queen, then shrank back. 

Tommy embraced her briefly, then Blue drew away again, stretching out a shaking hand, hard-paw-styled. Then, her other hand to her heart, she started to sing, bringing her extended hand back close to her body.

Andy could see tears filling her eyes as she sang. She started to run forward a step, only for Tommy's arm to come up and halt her. Rubbing her head up Tommy's upper arm as the older dancer sang, she looked away from the spot she had selected as Grizabella, occasionally sending half-glances in the direction, before looking away with a pained expression.

Only when she joined with Tommy's voice for the final stanza did they both look off towards the imaginary Grizabella. Both of them stepped forwards, Blue looking up at Tommy as if asking permission to reach forward, but by then, it would have been too late and Grizabella would have been gone.

Running forward, Blue came to her knees, stretching out a hand pleadingly in the direction that Grizabella would have gone, her expression one of abject despair. Lowering her face, even a touch from Tommy couldn't draw her from her despair.

The second the last chord of song finished, loud whoops and cheers rang from the hall outside of the rehearsal room. A mass of faces was grinning in the doorway and Blue blushed, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

All eyes turned to Jamieson as their applause died down. The pen that had been tightly gripped between his fingers before the song lay on the table. His jaw was slack. His eyes were wide. Sweat was beaded on his balding crown.

"Kid," Tommy looked down at Blue who had scrambled to her feet and was leaning against her side. "I think you killed him."

The tiny dancer laughed, brushing her nails against her chest. "Well, when you're good, you're good."

"Ladies and gentlemen," Standing up on apparently shaky legs, the manager mopped his brow with a handkerchief. "I think its safe to say that we have a replacement Demeter for the time being."

"Whooha!" Andy raced across the room and swung Blue up in his arms. "I told you! I told you you could do it!" Hugging her tightly, her could hear her happily sobbing against his shoulder and laughed. "You and me, Shorty! We'll show 'em how Munk and Dem are really meant to be."

"God help 'em." She muttered against his neck. Andy couldn't help laughing.


	10. The Cast - Part 10 - Family Ties

"So when we do this lift thing, you put one hand here..." Practising the lift for during Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats, Geeta took Andy's hand and placed it at the top of her inner thigh, giving him a coy smile.

He nodded. "That's right, Geeta." He waited for her to release his hand, then looked down in surprise. "Geeta?"

"Oh, sorry." The slight smirk that accompanied her coquettish giggle was far from innocent. "I must have got carried away...you have very strong hands."

"Yeah. He does." A small figure stepped between them, her hands on her hips. Blue was all but snarling up at the taller female dancer. "And I would be much obliged if you would keep them off your body."

Andy chuckled. "Easy, Tiger." He laid his hands on her shoulders. "I'm only helping Geeta with some of the lifts. Nothing to get angry about."

"Don't call me tiger." She snapped. "I'm the one this rehearsals meant to be for. She can do Vickie. She's done Vickie before. In case you've forgotten, I'm on as Demeter in a couple of hours and I've never played the bloody role in my life."

Andy gaped down at her. "Are you okay, Shorty?"

"What do you think?" Stamping away, the tiny dancer rounded the corner out of the door.

Geeta sidled up to him. "Well, while the mouse is away, is the cat gonna play?" She asked, her voice a seductive murmur. One hand scratched down his bare back, enough to raise several ridges of welts.

"Hey!" Wincing, Andy turned sharply. "Look, Geeta, you're a good dancer and really pretty and all, but don't do that. I'm not interested in you."

Batting amber-gold eyes, the young dancer nibbled on her fingertip. "You mean you don't find me attractive, Andy?" She moved towards him again, her body clad only in light jogging bottoms and a sports bra. "Don't you like the thought of a real, full-size woman?"

Grabbing her upper arms roughly, Andy hissed. "Don't you EVER insult Blue. She's my girlfriend. She's the one that I'm in love with. Not you."

"And yet, you're still here with me?"

Pushing her away from him, Andy stalked out of the large rehearsal room, leaving the Asian dancer laughing softly. Making his way around to his lover's dressing room first, he found no one there, which only left one place.

Hoping the management didn't see him, he carefully snuck into the ladies toilets, receiving a curious look from Helen, who was waxing her legs at one of the sinks. "Are you trying to tell me something, Andy?"

"All male, Hel." He gave his crotch a squeeze. "One hundred percent."

"Which is why Blue is in here, then?" The sandy-blonde woman cocked a brow. Andy reluctantly nodded, turning his attention to the toilet cubicles. Helen shrugged and went back to ripping the hair out of her legs.

Only one of the cubicles appeared to be in use. Tapping on the door, Andy called. "Blue?"

"Go 'way."

"Not a chance, short stuff. Open the door. Please?"

There was a click, as she slipped the latch back. Pushing the door open, he gave her a lop-sided smile. Blue was sitting on top of the toilet-seat lid, her knees hugged up to her chest, her nose pressed against her crossed arms. "Whatcha want?"

"You're scared, aren't you?"

"Me? Nah! Not much..." The rest of her face disappeared behind her slim arms. "What if I screw up, Andy? I've always wanted to play this kind of role, but I never got to...what if I mess up and they want rid of me?"

"Never going to happen, love." Kneeling, Andy opened his arms for her. "Is that why you were so piddled off at Geeta?"

"I don't trust her." Sliding forward on the seat, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He could feel her breath, warm against his neck. "She likes you, Andy. She wants to take you...take you away from me."

"Gotta admit its strange being the fancied one." He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. "Now, are you going to come back out to rehearsal or do I have to carry you, kicking and screaming when you throw a Kashka?"

"Is Menke there?"

"Naturally! He's the big boss man, while Antoine's on holiday." He rose, offering her a hand, which she took with a tired smile. "C'mon. Lets get back through and get this rehearsal malarky out of the way. Your costume should be ready by the time we finish."

"You mean the one of Kashka's that they're currently hacking to pieces, in a vague hope to make it fit me?"

"That would be the one." He gave her a broad smile. "Let's just hope and pray that it doesn't fall to bits in the middle of the show...what with you going bra-less and all..."

"Perv."

He flashed a grin down at her. "Well, I can hope."

***

"She did a good job, didn't she, hon?"

Malcolm looked over from his phone, clearly distracted. "Yeah...good job..." He rubbed his brow, walking towards the windows to try and get a better signal. His expression was knit with concern and anxiety.

"At least my costume didn't fall to bits." Blue agreed ruefully. She was sandwiched between Andy and Tommy, both of whom were looking very pleased.

"You did great, short-stuff." Andy bent to kiss her, her arms going around his neck and he straightened up, lifting her off the ground. His arms under her rear, he held her close and nudged his nose against hers. "Finally a Dem I like."

Malcolm rejoined the group, his brow furrowed. "Guys, looks like no celebrating for me." He gave them an apologetic look. "That was my mum. Apparently my sister wants to see me about something important..."

"Want for me to come, sweetie?"

"No, Ray. It wouldn't be a good time for you to see them." Pressing a quick kiss to Raymond's lips, he smiled tightly. "I'll see you later. Guys, again, sorry for canceling. Good night and have a drink for me."

The young dancer ran off towards the lift, leaving the group staring after him, bemused. "Ah, well," Tommy smiled. "One person less to buy for. Is everyone ready? Georgie...where's that girl got to?"

"Coming!" A small, flame-haired dancer sped out of the dressing rooms. "Sorry about that. I lost my identity card." She looked around. "I thought you said Menke and Demi were gonna be coming too?"

"Downstairs." Andy explained, his arm still around Blue, who was smiling and pressed against his side. "Now, are we all ready?" The general consensus seemed to be nods, so they piled towards the lift. "Jonny, you did say Moni was staying at home?"

Jonny looked at him guiltily as the door slid shut. "I said she wasn't staying at home."

***

Standing beside the pillars with his wife and Jonny's boyfriend, Menke gave Malcolm a wave as the dancer sprinted past, but it wasn't even acknowledged. Sighing, Menke glanced over at Demi who was deep in conversation with Moni.

"Excuse me, ladies?"

"Yeah, handsome?" Moni batted her eyes at him, making Demi chuckle.

"Any idea what time it is?"

Demi smiled brightly. "They'll be out any minute, love." She said, then turned back to her conversation with Moni, which was apparently about the most flattering ways and styles to wear long hair.

Menke sighed again, stepping a bit further around the pillar to stare down at the stage door. He was so intent on watching the door that he didn't notice someone approaching him from behind until a hand touched his shoulder.

Whipping around, he caught a glimpse of red hair and, in that instant, back-pedaled with a gasp of fright. "Mac..." He began, until his eyes focussed on the face and he felt a flush of embarrassment rise in his cheeks. "Uh...sorry..."

"Sorry if I startled you, sir." The red-haired teenager gave him a timid smile. "I-I just thought I recognised you...you're Menke Strep, aren't you?" He nodded, still trying to calm himself enough to speak. In that brief moment, all his memories from the years before had flooded back. "Could I have your autograph?"

"Yes, yes...of course..." His hands trembling, he accepted the pen and pad, unsteadily scribbling his name and flashing a watery smile at the kid. The youth grinned and ran off, clutching the notepad lovingly.

He started when Demi touched his arm. "Menke?"

"I thought it was him, Dem." He pulled his wife to him, burying his face in her hair. Inhaling and exhaling several shaking breaths, he felt her fingers stroking his back, lingering briefly over the round knot of scar tissue at the base of his spine.

"He's gone, love. He can't hurt us again." She murmured against his ear.

Relaxing, Menke sought her lips, blinking back a wave of tears of relief. Returning the kiss, Demi stroked his face gently, then drew back with a smile. Her husband nudged his nose against hers. "Sorry, love."

"At least you didn't go running down the street, screaming, like I used to." She reminded him with a laugh. He gave her a lop-sided grin, looking around as the stage door opened and a small herd of figures emerged.

"Here they come to save the day!" He called, not releasing his wife's hand.

Swarming up to the couple, Blue, Andy, Tommy, Raymond, Georgina and Jonny managed to avoid the little groups of fans. "Shall we go before they decide to pounce us?" Blue suggested with a quick glance around.

"Sounds like the most sensible option." Monique stepped forward, smiling engagingly in Andy's direction, her brown eyes dancing. "I'll look after my little Cutie-pie, here, while the rest of you run for cover."

"Bluuuuuuuuue!" Andy wailed.

***

"What...what are you saying?"

Tear-filled blue eyes looked up at the tall dancer. "I'm sorry." Malcolm whispered. "Its over."

"No....Mal, honey...can't we talk about this?" 

The small dancer was standing in the living room of his boyfriend's shared apartment, his rucksack on his shoulder. He had not been seen by any of the group since his untimely departure from the theatre the previous night. "There's nothing to talk about, Ray." He said. Rising on his toes, he touched his lips to Raymond's. Turning away, he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"No...no! I can't accept that!" Grabbing Malcolm's shoulders, the huge American shook him, his own voice strained. "Mal, give me a reason. You don't just give up somethin' like this...I can't... please, Mal..."

"Ray, please." The smaller of the two stepped back. He ran his fingers through his hair, his make-up streaking his pale cheeks. "Don't make this harder than it already is. I have a lot of reasons...just let me go."

Raymond let his hands fall away from his lover's shoulders and sank down on the plush arm of the sofa, his hands curled in fists on his thighs. "Go." He said softly, closing his eyes. Tears trickled down his dark cheeks.

"Ray, I'm really sorry."

"Just go!" Lashing out with his hand, the dancer sent a lamp hurtling across the room, smashing into the wall. Glass tinkled on the tiled floor and Raymond turned away from his ex-boyfriend. "Get the hell out."

Nodding, tears running silently down his cheeks, Malcolm crossed to the door and let himself out, closing the door quietly behind him. He didn't see Raymond fall to his knees on the floor, folding in on himself, wracking sobs tearing through his body.

Leaning against the wall in the hall, Malcolm banged the back of his head against the rough plasterboard. "It had to be done." He said to himself, raising a hand to smear the mess of his eyeliner across his cheeks. "It had to."

Straightening up, he dabbed the corners of his eyes with the end of the sleeve of the long shirt sticking out from the cuffs of his leather jacket. Swallowing a sob, he falteringly walked down the stairs to where his cab still waited.

Climbing in the back seat, he hugged his backpack in his lap, gazing up at the empty window of the flat three stories up.

"Where to, mate?"

"King's Cross Hospital, thanks." He replied quietly, turning away from the window and looking down at his hands gripping the grubby material of his rucksack. The black nail polish was chipped and scratched.

Another flood of tears rose in his throat as he realised that he wouldn't spend any more nights with Raymond, testing different colours of polish on each others finger and toenails. Burying his face in his hand, he started to sob.

***

The banging on the door woke the four people in the attic apartment. Yelling obscenities, Tommy was the first down the stairs, tying her dressing gown on. Blue and Andy peered out of her bedroom as the black-haired dancer yanked the door open.

"Is he here, hon?" Bleary, red-rimmed eyes stared in at her. "I went to his apartment, but he ain't there..."

"Ray?" The big dancer took an unsteady step forward. Tommy immediately caught one of his thick arms and steered him around the couch to sit down. "Ray, hon, not that I don't wanna see you, but what the hell are you doing here?"

"What's going on?" Andy demanded, crossing the living room floor.

Squeezing his folded hands between his knees, Raymond rocked back and forward, tears streaming down his face. "He dumped me." He croaked, looking at Tommy who was seated next to him. "I love the little geek and he dumped me."

"Oh man. I'm so sorry, sweetheart...I'm sorry…" Gathering Raymond in her arms, Tommy hugged him tightly. "Did he tell you why, Ray?"

"H-he said he had reasons." Cradled in her lap, his head resting on her satin-clad thigh, he shuddered with another wave of tears. One hand stroking his curly mass of hair, her other hand rested on his shoulder. "Hon, am I really so bad?"

"No, Ray! No!" Wrapping her around his barrel-like chest, Tommy pressed her brow to Raymond's. "There's nothing wrong with you. You're sweet, funny, great company, you have a great ass, great personality..."

"But he still dumped me." Sitting up, the black dancer shook his head. "I don't care if he don't love me, Tom. I just want my sweetie back." Leaning heavily on his knees, he buried his face in his hands and started to weep all over again.

Tommy knelt up beside him, hugging him against her chest. "Cry it out, hon." She whispered, pressing her cheek against the top of his head. "We're here for you, Ray." His arms went around her waist, holding her tightly.

"Ray?" Wearing nothing more than an oversized Cats T-shirt, Blue approached him, rubbing her eyes. "Can...can I sit on your knee?" He nodded and she climbed into his lap, sliding her arms around his neck.

Wrapped up in the arms of both of the dancers, Raymond's sobs slowly quieted. Letting Tommy slide away, he hugged Blue tightly. Her small fingers stroked through his hair and across the back of his neck comfortingly.

"You're staying with us tonight?" Despite the fact it was a question, there was a tone in Tommy's voice that said it was an order. Raymond nodded against Blue's shoulder, a long sigh escaping him.

The Oriental-looking dancer went into the kitchen, making a cup of herbal tea for the big dancer. Returning to the couch, she motioned for Blue to return to Andy and for them both to go to bed.

"Hon, this tastes like cat pee."

"I don't even wanna know how you what that tastes like." Even that didn't draw a smile from the big dancer.

Watching Raymond sip the tea - which was laced with sleeping pills - she reached out and squeezed his knee. "You going to be okay?"

"I dunno, Tom." He replied quietly, gazing down into the amber-green liquid. "I never believed you could really have your heart broken...I guess I was wrong." He spread a hand on his sweater-clad chest. "I don't want it to hurt, hon. I just want him to come back."

Tommy nodded. "I know, sweetie." She murmured. As he finished his tea, she let him lay his head in her lap, soothingly stroking his cheek until the pills took effect and he fell asleep, his breathing growing softer.

Sliding carefully out, she laid his head down on the cushions, removing his shoes and lifting his feet up onto the other end of the couch. Retrieving a soft blanket from the washing room, she carefully draped it over him.

"Sleep well, Ray." She gently kissed his cheek. "Things'll probably be worse in the morning, but sleep well."

***

"I am here to see my daughter." Leo leaned back in his seat to look up at the man on the other side of the desk. A middle-aged Asian man, he was clad in a suit, thick waves of luxurious black hair smoothed back from a high forehead. A small, neat mustache was visible over his upper lip.

"And who would your daughter be?"

"Her name is Geeta Khan." The man's voice was calm, but something in his expression told Leo that he was angry underneath. "I would like to see her now."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible." Smiling politely, Leo gestured at the time. "Geeta isn't in at the moment." The man nodded gravely, looking around the stage door area. "Do you intend to wait to see her?"

"Yes. Yes, I will wait."

Leo nodded warily, turning his attention to sorting out the stacks of mail that were waiting to be sorted into the rack. He hoped and prayed that whatever happened, Geeta wouldn't show up until her father was gone.

Something told the door manager that any confrontation between father and daughter was bound to be unpleasant.

The silence in the small, practically-windowless area was only broken by the sound from the TV which stood in the corner of the room, behind the desk, so the doormen and women had something to keep them entertained while they were seated there.

A sound from the road outside caught both of their attention and the man took a step towards the desk, his eyes narrowing. The door buzzed open and two dancers hurried in, neither of them Geeta, much to Leo's relief.

"Afternoon, Leo!" Jordan enthused, grinning. He shot a curious glance in the direction of Geeta's father, but said nothing to him as he signed in. "Mal's off?"

"Just called in. He's feeling a bit under the weather."

Joely looked surprised. "That's not like our Mal. He hasn't been off since he started…how long ago was that, now? Five months?" She pushed strands of her newly cut hair back from her eyes, the longest sections barely chin length any longer. "Gimme the pen."

Both of them signed in and were on the way to the lift before Leo called over. "Your hair looks good, Joe." She flashed a flirtatious grin back in his direction, before slinking out of site and into the waiting elevator.

There were only a few moments between the arrival of the first two dancers and the entry of Geeta, wearing a strappy vest and skin tight leather trousers. Most of her long hair was pulled up in a ponytail, with twin strands hanging down on either side of her face.

"Howdee, Leo!" She grinned breezily, then froze at the sight of the man standing beside the desk.

"Geeta Fatima Khan!"

She took a step back. "Father."

"You dare to call me father, when you look like that?" He stared at her in blatant disgust. "Look at you! You are dressing like a filthy Western whore!" The girl crossed her arms over her chest, lowering her eyes that were filling with tears. "You do not have your burkha! Nor your robes!"

"Sir, I think you should leave."

"No, sir! I will not!" Climbing up the two steps towards his daughter, he grabbed her roughly by the upper-arms, making her cry out. "You are coming home with me, ungrateful bitch. I will teach you the true place of a woman!"

"Let her go." Leo had leapt over the desk and grabbed the man's shoulder. "She wants to be here. It's her choice."

"No! No choice!" Looking from his sobbing daughter to the man behind him, amber eyes widened in rage. "She is your whore!" Before Leo could catch the man's hand, he had slapped Geeta viciously. A ring on his middle finger opened a cut across her cheekbone, the girl staggering against the door. "Filthy slut!"

"Father, stop!" Jerking free of him, she raised her hand to fend off another blow, as Leo pulled her father back from her. His face was flushed and he was panting with the effort.

Behind her, the door buzzed open without warning and she fell back, smacking straight into the group that was about to enter. Two pairs of hands caught her and she looked up to see Tommy and Andy looking down at her with consternation.

"Release me! She is my daughter! I have every right to treat her as I wish!"

"I don't think so." Both Tommy and Andy rounded the girl, steering her back to Ray and Blue, who were behind them. Tommy loomed, almost a full head taller than Geeta's father. "Geeta is staying here. You can't make her do anything she doesn't want to do."

"I am her father! I have every right…"

"You have every right to bugger off back to Bradford." Andy snapped. "Geeta may be your daughter, but she's also an independent woman now. She's an adult and you have no rights to tell her what she will and won't do against her own wishes."

The middle-aged man scowled up at the younger one. "You are a fool to stand between me and my child. I know what is best for her. I am her father."

"Yeah, we had figured that much out." Tommy sighed. "I had a father just like you, once upon a time. Now, I have a life and friends instead. I wouldn't trade it."

"But would Geeta?" Shrewd eyes turned to his daughter. "Tell me, daughter, could you face losing your family, like this whore?"

Stepping around Tommy, her face streaked with tears and a ream of blood, Geeta stared down at her father. "I won't lose my family, dad." She whispered, her voice shaking. "I'll just lose you and if I have to do that for my own happiness, I will."

Her father looked like he had taken a savage blow to the gut, staggering back a step. "But, my daughter…"

"Go, dad." She said. Standing straight and proud, she ignored the tears running silently down her cheeks. "I'm staying."

***

Sitting in the common area, a mug of steaming tea clutched between her shaking hands, Geeta stared down at the dark liquid. "I just rejected my father." She whispered sadly, oblivious to Tommy sponging her face clean with cotton wool.

"You saw his face." The older dancer murmured. "You called his bluff. He expected you to throw yourself at his feet and beg him to forgive you for doing what you wanted." She smiled sadly. "At least your father was only bluffing. If he legally could, my father would have me certified dead."

"He disagrees with you so much?"

Tommy didn't meet her eyes, but nodded. "Dad and I were as close as any father and daughter could be. We liked the same films, same books, same music..." She almost laughed, but it turned into a sigh. "Same women."

"Did you tell him that you were a lesbian?"

Again, Tommy shook her head, staring at her hands that were resting in her lap. "I thought it would...disappoint him." Her voice grew strained. "He was always talking about how wonderful it would be when I got married in our Church and then I would provide him with a whole flock of grandchildren. A brood of beautiful little angels was what he said they would be."

"What happened?"

"I thought I could pretend that I was 'normal'," Ebony eyes rose, filled with tears. "I went out with boys, even got caught kissing some of them, but it wasn't me. I felt bad for lying to him, but I felt worse because of the feelings inside of me. Feelings I knew he would hate in me." She wiped the tears away, a pained smile on her face. "I was miserable. I got ill, stopped eating right, spent all my time in my room...daddy wanted to know why I was so upset, but I couldn't tell him."

Geeta reached down and squeezed Tommy's hand, drawing a sorrowful smile from the older dancer, who tossed her hair back from her face.

"He did find out, y'know. That's how I ended up in London, at seventeen." She gazed towards the windows, her eyes growing unfocused. "I went out to a club one night...met a girl...no...a woman...funny thing is that I don't even remember her name now. All I know is that she was stunning. Half-Indian, half-Chinese...absolutely beautiful." A look of reminiscence crossed her features. "I had never had any experience with anyone except boys before that. They all wanted a grope and to stick their tongue down my throat...she was different..."

Closing her eyes, the dancer quietly related how she had spotted the wildly-exotic looking woman across the dance floor and hadn't been able to keep from staring as the girl danced, seducing any male who happened to be passing with her motions.

With curves in all the right places that seemed to have literally been poured into a skin-tight, red satin number, she dirty-danced with anyone bold enough to approach her and Tommy felt her heart jolt when dove-grey eyes had gazed smokily over one of the boy's shoulders, straight at her. She looked away immediately, flushing.

Tommy had been sitting at a table with her friends, but most of them were taking the chance to get in a few quick snogs and gropes in the corners. Wearing a modest, knee-length skirt and a relatively tame halter top, she had been taking in the other club-goers when a red-clad figure had stepped directly in front of her.

"You were watching me." She had purred. A purr. That was the only way her voice could be described. Tommy had mutely nodded, captivated by the pale eyes. "Did you like what you saw, beautiful?" Again, Tommy had managed to nod, receiving a soft laugh from the stunning woman standing over her. "Would you do me the pleasure of a dance?"

Unable to resist, Tommy had slowly nodded. The vision had taken the teen's hand in hers, drawing her to her feet and leading her onto the dance floor. Several of Tommy's friends had paused what they were doing to stare, but their...companions got impatient, so they were quickly distracted.

"I don't know how to do this kind of dancing..." She had said nervously, her ebony eyes meeting those pale ones again, her heart thudding deafeningly.

"Listen to the music." The honey-sweet voice had said.

Tommy had shaken her head. "I can't hear the music." She had received another teasing laugh for that and shivered when her hands were placed on silk-cased hips.

"Do what you feel is right, beautiful." The vision had pressed close to her, to breathe the words in her ear and Tommy had felt the fullness of the beautiful woman's full breasts rubbing against her own through the light fabric of their clothing.

Tommy turned back to Geeta. "We danced all night, just danced. She was smaller than me and she rested her head on my shoulder...her lips, here..." Raising her hand, she touched the side of her throat. "She was the one who inspired me to be the way I am, to be confident with who and what I was."

"So you didn't do anything with her?"

Again, a faint smile crossed Tommy's lips. "She was my first proper kiss. The first one I remember detail for detail..." Closing her eyes, the smile widened. "We were standing near the door of the club, in the shop doorway next to it...it was a book shop. I remember looking at her, then making myself look away, because I didn't want to kiss her, in case she had just been being friendly..."

"Dancing all night? Friendly?"

"I was young." She shrugged. "I didn't know any better. I was trying to think of something nice or funny to say, when she turned me around and lifted my chin to make me look at her. She told me I was a beautiful dancer and then she kissed me. I honestly thought my heart had stopped, when she turned it into a full-blown kiss." Her smile had become somewhat shyer, a faint glow across her cheeks. "I was pressed back against the glass of the door, but even the glass didn't make me feel cold. I thought I was melting...she was such a good kisser...I almost fell down when she let go of me. It was one of the best moments of my life."

Geeta frowned. "So did your dad see you kissing her? Is that how he found out?"

"I wish it was that simple. I had always made the excuse to myself that I was only imagining I was feeling the way I did, but after that kiss...after the feelings I had, I couldn't pretend to be straight anymore...but I couldn't tell my father. He found out by accident." Tommy rubbed her face wearily. 

"I had gotten very close to a friend at school, after the night at the club. She was at my house one day and we'd been having a bit of a booze-up to celebrate exams ending, because I thought dad wouldn't be home. She wasn't exactly pretty, but there was something about her...I leaned over and kissed her, just messing around. Nearly pissed myself with shock when she kissed me back...she told me she'd always had a thing for me...we made it to my bedroom and next thing I know, we were naked and dad was standing over us, a disgusted look on his face." She shook her head sadly. "I never had a chance to explain..."

"What happened?"

"I tried to tell him that it wasn't my fault, that I hadn't wanted to feel like that." She rubbed her cheek. "He slapped me, said I was disgusting and perverted and that no daughter of his was going to be such a whore." Tears welled in her eyes again. "I told him I was sorry, but he wouldn't listen to a word I was saying. Mum got me out of the house before he could get to me to scream more abuse at me...I went to my aunt's and the next day, all my clothes and things were ditched outside, in boxes." She rubbed her palms together with a sigh. "I grabbed my favourites and ran away to London...you know the story...I was going to make my fortune...I ended up getting seduced by an older woman I ran into in a pub. Apparently the daft old bat loved me," This was said with a sad fondness. "She died a few years back...left me a load of money and her home, just after I met Sylvie, my girlfriend. I can't imagine being happier than I am with her."

"Have you spoken to your family since you got here?"

Tommy nodded. "I could never stay out of touch with my mum. I can't send her letters, so we e-mail...how ridiculous is that? I got internet access so I could talk to my mum. I bet your dad will change his mind, though. You saw his face. He really doesn't want to lose his daughter."

"You really think so?"

Rising up on her knees to hug the younger dancer, Tommy cupped Geeta's slim face between her hands. "I know so. Just give him some time to calm down and I'm sure he'll talk to you again."

"Thanks, Tommy." Returning the hug, Geeta wiped her face with a tissue proffered by the older dancer.

"No problem, kid." Stroking Geeta's loose hair back from her face, she forced a smile. "It seems I've been doing it an awful lot lately." She looked over at the other side of the common area, where Raymond was sitting, staring into space. "Far too much."

***

Lying on his belly on the couch, his chin resting on his folded arms, Malcolm stared at the wall, less than two feet away. Bruises tracked up the inside of both of his arms, his eyes were red-rimmed, his lips cracked and scabbed.

On the table beside him, the phone was ringing, as it had been, on and off all morning. Not that he had been there. He had only got back from the hospital at two o'clock, almost twenty-four hours after he left the flat.

He only knew of the phone calls because of all the messages that Tommy had left, the first ones from the previous night, full of colourful language and lectures about breaking Raymond's heart without reason.

The latest messages, though, had changed.

She had been phoning every half an hour on the dot and her voice was growing increasingly worried, demanding to know where he was, why he wasn't picking up, what was wrong that meant he wasn't at work.

The answer machine beeped.

"Mal? Mal, if you're there, pick up." Tommy again. What a surprise. "Please, Mal. What's wrong? Where are you? You know I won't yell at you now, so please, please call me when you get this message."

She was probably just about to go on stage.

Malcolm sighed, flopping onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to call her, wanted to tell someone something. Explain what was wrong. Tell them to leave him alone until he was ready to share what he was going through.

But that would defeat the purpose.

No one was going to know and he would get through it on his own. No one else would have to be bothered by it. No one else would have to suffer the worry, the confusion, the anxiety, the emotions he found rushing through him right at that moment.

Strange, a half-smile crept onto his lips, that he had always been so emotional and people-orientated as a child, yet now, here he was. Alone. Sealing himself off from his friends, despite his family saying that he should tell them.

Raising his left arm into the light from the window on the opposite wall, he examined the inner elbow, the nail-polish-free fingers of his right hand tracing lightly over the marks of the needles and the bruises left by them.

They still nipped a little but they weren't painful. Not as painful as other procedures were meant to be. Or would be, depending on whether he was...right.

Sighing again, he brought both his hands up behind his head, closing his eyes. Everything rolled back in on him and if he had been capable of finding the strength, he would have allowed more tears to fall.

He wished Raymond could be beside him, to comfort him, especially after everything he had been told in the hospital the previous night. He pressed his eyes tighter shut, trying to forget the warmth of the huge, muscular arms around his own slim body. He tried to forget the nights they had spent together. He tried to forget the words Raymond had said to him before they slept, two days before he broke the big dancer's heart.

I love you.

Three small words.

Three small, beautiful words.

He had heard those three small, beautiful, wonderful words and yet, he had still taken the huge heart of the most perfect man in the world and smashed it with his own self-centredness and desire to be what he once was.

What he no longer was, thanks to that same man.

He had changed, thanks to Raymond.

And now, Raymond was out of his life, but he couldn't imagine going on without him.

Tears painfully leaked from his dry, blood-shot eyes. Despite all the tears that had fallen in the last two days, he still could find more to painfully seep from his aching eyes simply when he thought about his beautiful gentle giant of a lover.

With a muffled, sobbed curse, Malcolm pushed himself to his feet, stumbling through to the kitchen and searching under the sink for a bottle of something alcoholic. Tearing the lid off a cheap bottle of Vodka, he poured a gout into his mouth, leaning heavily against the counter and panting after he swallowed it.

It didn't help.

Slamming the bottle down in the sink, the force shattered the bottle, the liquid swirling down the plughole.

Staggering through to his bedroom, his chest heaving with painful, dry sobs, he fell on his knees, raking under the unmade double bed. A huge, rainbow-coloured T-shirt emerged and he hugged it to his face, inhaling the scent.

"Ray..." He whispered, his face soaked with tears. Unsteadily getting up, he crept into the little nest in the middle of the blankets in the bed. Curling up in a ball, Raymond's T-shirt hugged to his chest, he cried himself to sleep.

***

"This is getting ridiculous." Tommy hung up her phone again. She had rung once during Mungojerrie & Rumpleteaser, twice during the Intermission, once during Growltiger's Last Stand and three times in the process of getting changed.

"Not ridiculous, Tom." Andy looked up from his shoelace that he was in the middle of tying. "I don't know Mal that well, but for him not to answer, something has got to be seriously wrong and we both know it."

She nodded, pacing back and forth. "I've tried his house phone...his mobile too...he can't not be there."

"What about family?" Blue suggested, looking over at the dressing room that Raymond was slowly getting changed in. She had never seen a more somber Alonzo than the huge dancer had been during the show. "Do you know his family?"

Tommy nodded. "I don't want to impose on them, but yeah. I met his mum and dad once, by accident." She grinned faintly. "They were just about to be arrested for setting up a camp site in a Tesco carpark."

"You don't want to impose? Tommy, think about this for a second...he ditches Raymond, the man we all know is completely, head over heels in love with him. He doesn't answer thirty phone calls from you. He doesn't show up for work." Andy gave her a look. "Isn't that kind of worth imposing on them for?"

"You're right." She nodded, pushing her fingers through her thick mane. "I'm ringing them first thing tomorrow morning."

"And is Ray coming home with us tonight?" Blue looked around at her flatmate.

Both of the older dancers looked towards the dressing room. Raymond had just emerged, his clothes disheveled, huge bags under his eyes, his feet dragging. "I think that would be a yes, don't you, Tommy?"

"Definitely. Ray, honey?"

"Hmm?"

"Whatcha got planned for tonight?"

He shrugged. "Thought I might go and get smashed." He replied quietly. 

"That won't help, Ray."

The big dancer gave Blue a cynical look. "Who the hell said I wanted it to help? I just want to forget for a while and if I have ta drink a helluva lot..." He looked at his watch. "I still got plenty of time to do it before the pubs shut."

"Not a chance, Mister." Tommy grabbed his arm. "You're coming with us. I'm not leaving you wandering the streets of London alone, pissed as a fart." He started to protest, but she pulled his mouth against hers. It shut him up long enough for her to add. "We've got booze at the flat. You can knock yourself out there."

"And you won't tell me when to stop?"

"Brownie's Honour." She raised her hand, three middle fingers up.

Blue cocked a brow. "You were never a Brownie, Tommy."

The older dancer grinned devilishly. "Yeah, but I look damn good in one of the old uniforms, with stockings and suspenders and little else." Andy goggled at her. "What? Sylvie has strange taste." One arm around Raymond, she motioned for the other two to follow her. "C'mon, guys. Lets get Cuddles, here, home."

"As long as I get booze, I don't care."

"I know, hon, I know."

***

"Are you in the cast?!"

Andy groaned at the excited little voice that had shrilled from a small group. "Bugger...they had to come tonight, didn't they?" He gave them a pained grin, sidling past them as fast as he thought was polite. "Sorry. In a hurry. Can't stop..."

As soon as he reached the end of the road, he darted around the corner, waiting for the other trio to emerge from the stage door. Only when it opened did he realise that he probably should have given Tommy advanced warning.

Whatever happened, though, he wasn't about to miss the fireworks. Peeking around the edge of the building, he saw Blue pause to sign an autograph or two, while Tommy attempted to hustle the miserable-looking Raymond out of the way and fast.

"Oh my God!" Another shrill voice squealed. "That's Alonzo!"

"Fan-bloody-tastic." Andy muttered, running back around the building, determined to help Blue cut off the main disaster that was inevitable if the annoying little prick with the notepad went anywhere near Raymond.

"I was Demeter...you can have my autograph, if you want..."

"But I love Alonzo!" She tried to side-step around Blue.

"I played Alonzo!" Andy skidded to a halt in front of the girl. "You can annoy me for a while."

"But he was a great..."

"Trust me, kid." Andy tried to steer her away. "You don't want to be speaking to him tonight."

"But I want to see Alonzo!"

Andy mentally groaned. What was she? Brain-dead? You just had to look at Raymond to see that he wasn't in the mood to be approached by anyone. "Look, kid, leave it now. You've seen him. Let him be."

"But Alonzo!" She wailed.

"Shut the hell up, you stupid little tart!" Raymond yelled, rounding on her. "How many times do they gotta say it? I'm tired, I'm pissed off, I'm achin' all over, I was dumped yesterday and I just wanna go and get pissed. Would you leave me the hell alone?" He snatched the book from her hand, scrawled his name over it and threw it back at her. "Have a nice fuckin' day."

The kid was staring up at him with a combination of terror and shock, as he turned and stormed back to Tommy's side, disappearing around the corner. The whole stage door area was steeped in a stunned silence.

Andy pulled a face, looking down at Blue, who was shaking her head. "Well, I did tell the silly moo not to annoy him, didn't I?"

"That you did, big guy." She sighed, looping her arm up through his. "Let's go and make sure he's okay."

"What? Now that he has the guilt as well?"

"Man, is tonight going to be fun."

***

The sun was flooding the living room. Seated at the kitchen side of the breakfast bar, Tommy was flicking through her numerous address books, trying to locate the telephone number of Malcolm's family. 

She glanced over her shoulder at Raymond. He hadn't even lasted for a bottle of beer the night before. Bearing in mind that she'd spiked his first drink of the evening with sleeping pills again and he'd fallen off the couch, unconscious, it was perfectly reasonable that his half-empty bottle of Bud was still sitting on the table next to the couch.

With some help from Sylvie, Andy and Blue, they had managed to get him out of his heavy street jacket and boots, before tucking him up on the couch with a heap of snug pillows and a nice-grandma-smelling comfort blanket.

He hadn't even noticed.

Now, he was tucked on his side, still sleeping like a baby. A somewhat large and drugged-into-unconsciousness baby, but a baby none-the-less.

"A-ha!" Snatching up the phone, she dialed the number rapidly, drumming her fingers on the counter while she waited for someone to pick up. Unlike Malcolm, his mother did actually answer the phone. 

She sounded strangely tired to Tommy.

"Hello, Mrs Donovan?" There was a sound of assent. "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm a friend of Malcolm's, Tommy..." There was a comment on the other end of the line. "Yes, that's right. I was the one that helped you escape, by losing control of my trolley." She waited until Malcolm's mother paused and said. "I don't want to bother you, but I was wondering if you know where Malcolm is."

Mrs. Donovan sounded puzzled and Tommy didn't know if she wanted to upset the sweet little hippy lady.

"The thing is, we haven't seen him for days." She took a breath and plunged on in. " He's refusing to answer any of our calls, no one has seen him and now, we're getting really worried about him."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

"He didn't tell us? Tell us what, Mrs. Donovan?" As Mrs. Donovan started to explain, a sick feeling spread in the pit of Tommy's stomach and she found herself looking across at the sleeping Raymond again.

Now, Malcolm's actions made sense.

Now, she knew where he would be.

"Mrs. Donovan, I'm really, really sorry to hear that." She said, her voice starting to break. "Yes, you too. All right. See you there...bye."

Before the phone was even cool back in its cradle, Tommy had launched herself across the room and had jerked Raymond upright, shaking him vigourously. 

"Ray! Raymond, you big, lazy poofter!" Slapping him lightly, she shook him again. "Ray, will you wake up?" Bleary eyes opened and peered up at her foggily. "Ray, listen to me very carefully. I know where Mal is."

"And?"

"And? You love him, you wanker." The dancer's head started to loll back, as he sank back to sleep. This time, Tommy slapped him hard and his eyes shot open wide. "Listen to me, Ray, this is very important."

***

Sitting in one of the wheelchairs provided by the hospital, his feet drumming on the floor, Malcolm looked around the spotlessly clean white ward. The floors were white. The walls were white. Even the damn roof was white.

The scent of antiseptic seared his nostrils and he turned the chair around slowly to look around the rest of the room. 

Room. 

It sounded so much more homely than 'ward'.

Two beds occupied the room. One of them was unmade, the sheets tangled from where he had tossed and turned during the procedure. Where he had lain for hours, since he had returned from the flat, the night before. Where he had waited for word.

The other bed was vacant and neatly made now. The nurses had come in while he slept, taken the other patient down to the doctors, leaving him to wake up alone. Alone in the cold, isolating white cell of a ward.

A clock ticked loudly on the wall, above the door. It was white as well. 

Malcolm sighed, looking at his bruised arm again. The bruises were gradually starting to fade, but that wasn't the central focus of his anxiety. The missing patient from the empty bed had claimed that prize.

He glanced across at the messy bed that had been given to him. A nil-by-mouth sign had been pinned on the headboard by one of the nurses, but it could still be removed, depending on the results.

Using his feet to turn the chair back around, he pushed himself back towards the window that faced the door. It looked out onto the hospital car park, not the most exciting of locations for a patient to be given as a view.

Leaning forward, elbows propped on the low window ledge, he sighed, his breath misting the glass. Despite the fact that it was only eight o'clock in the morning, the car park was already full of a kaleidoscope of colours and brands.

Spreading a palm on the misty window, Malcolm watched with tired interest as a misty handprint spread out around his fingers. His gaze drifted to his nails. They looked wrong without their paint on. Bare. Nude.

A half-laugh escaped him on the last word. She would like that.

Behind him, he heard the door squeak as it opened and he was about to turn when he heard the sweetest sound in the world.

"Hon?"

Jerking to his feet, the wheelchair went skidding across the floor, but Malcolm didn't care. He crossed the small ward in four steps and wrapped his arms around Raymond's neck, finding the warm familiar lips waiting for his.

"Ray...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Scattering kisses over Raymond's face, Malcolm hugged him tightly, pressing his cheek against the muscled shoulder. "I was so bloody stupid...I didn't want you getting upset by all this...I'm sorry..."

Tears were brimming in the big dancer's eyes. "I know, sweetie." He said gently, lifting Malcolm's face to his. "But you should have told me." Surprisingly gentle fingers brushed his unruly black and red hair back from his face. "I wouldn't want to let you go through this on your own." His thumb brushed across Malcolm's make-up-free cheek. "I love you, Mal."

Pale blue eyes met deep brown, both filled with uncalled for tears. "I love you too, Ray." The smaller dancer whispered.

"Know that too, hon." Bending, Raymond covered Malcolm's lips with his own, his arms wrapping securely around his lover. Deepening the kiss, he could taste the salty tang of tears, but couldn't say who they belonged to.

Malcolm moaned softly, almost whimpering when Raymond broke out of the kiss and hugged him close to his chest. His slim hands spread on the thick muscles of Raymond's stomach, he released a sigh of pleasure, knowing he was back where he belonged.

"I guess this means we're back together, Mal?"

"Would you hit me if I said duh?"

Raymond chuckled his familiar rumble. "Maybe."

"Duh." A large hand slapped down on a firm buttock, then added a playful squeeze for emphasis as their lips met again.

A single person applauding broke that kiss and they turned to see a girl in a wheelchair smiling broadly at both of them. A tired-looking brunette nurse stood behind the chair, staring into the ward in confusion.

Short, white blonde hair stood up in crazy tufts over a face that - had it been more masculine - would have been identical to Malcolm's. The same blue eyes sparkled with merriment, despite the pallor and thinness of her face.

"I was hoping you two would get back together." She said. "He's been moping around here and looking so damned miserable and bad that all the doctors thought that he was the one with 'kemia, instead of me."

"I'm guessin' you're my boy's twin?" Not relinquishing his hold on Malcolm, Raymond crossed the floor to shake her hand. "He's told me a whole lot about you, sweetie."

"Likewise." The girl smiled. "And yep, I'm Linda, his clone that went wrong." The nurse behind the chair steered her back towards her bed and she was carefully helped back to sit in it, her drip re-hung on the pole. "Nice to finally meet the guy my brother fell in love with."

Malcolm gave her a grin, then turned to the nurse. "Nice to meet the person who made my wonderful sister actually wear clothing." The nurse looked baffled and made as fast an escape as possible.

Linda rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Mal," She motioned for him to come and sit on the bed beside her. "When you're not being checked over for the whole bone-marrow thingie transplanter doodle-wotsit, I think that you're trying to embarrass me."

"I'll manage one day." Her twin said with a wry smile, as Raymond's arms came around his waist, his chin resting on his smaller lover's shoulder. "Ray, a word to the wise, never ever try and embarrass a nudist."

"Naturalist, brother o' mine." She stretched her body with a happy grin. "And isn't it a bloody brilliant day?" Reaching forward, she grabbed both his hands and squeezed them. "I just got the results, bro." An anxious look crossed his face. "We're compatible, completely."

"Really??" Leaning forward, he hugged her tightly. "What took them so long?"

"It was only two days, Mal." She pulled back, settling against her pillows. "They had some problems with under-staffing in the labs, I suppose." She smiled broadly, her gaunt face lighting up. "They said they can do the transplant thing tonight though."

"Damn! There go my plans for pizza."

"And no one believes you actually eat, when I tell them." She laughed. "At least, this way, I might finally be able to sit down and eat something after...just a few more injections, pokings around and needles. I dunno about you, but I'm looking forward to it."

Malcolm reached over and pecked her on the cheek. "I can see you didn't mind that damn injections and needles and stuff as much as me." He shuddered. "It's the pain, isn't it? I can't even bend my arm, but you...You like the pain...a masochistic nudist...I bet you go and roll in nettle patches when you're naked." She gave him a mock-shocked look. "Actually, I don't wanna know about you and your weird sexual habits."

"Don't sound like anythin' we haven't done, sweetie." The big black dancer murmured. "And here I was thinkin' your family was gonna be weird." Raymond pressed a kiss to the back of Malcolm's neck, making the other dancer shiver with pleasure. "She seems darn sweet to me."

"That's nice of you to say so." Linda cooed, reaching over to slap her brother's knee. "But I think that the crazies in our family are the parents." She paused, then added. "And of course, dear old Dancing Sunbeam."

"Dancing Sunbeam?" Raymond asked dubiously.

Malcolm and Linda exchanged smiles, still holding one another's hands. "He's our big brother, Ray." Malcolm explained. "That's the name mum and dad came up with, when they were still kinda crazy hippies." Nestling back against Raymond's chest he almost laughed. "Not that they have actually stopped being kinda crazy hippies."

"Your brother. He...actually answers to Dancing Sunbeam?" Raymond looked from one sibling to the other.

"Yeah." Linda nodded, grinning broadly. "We like to call him Bob."


	11. The Cast - Part 11 - Someone To Lean On

A very intense situation was going on. 

Tommy was standing over it, surveying it with interest. Behind her, the door opened, allowing several more cast members and crew to enter. Several of them glanced down, raised their brows and went on their way.

"So I said 'You don't know what you're talking about'..."

"Shorty, that's just not funny at all."

"I didn't say it was funny." Blue's voice laughingly replied to her boyfriend. "I just said that that was what I said."

"You're weird."

"Thank you for noticing."

"Uh, Tommy..."

The tall dancer raised a hand. "Just give them a minute."

Peering around Tommy, Blue blinked at the couple on the couch, who were caught in a very passionate kiss. "Reunion kinda moment?"

"You could say that." Tommy remarked, clearing her throat as Raymond's hand progressed south on his lover's slim body. The hand moved back upwards, sliding beneath the loose Iron Maiden T-shirt. "I'm just censoring them if they need it."

Lying on his side against the back of the couch, Raymond had been asleep when Malcolm had arrived to work that afternoon. Sliding down, lifting the big dancer's arms around him, Malcolm had woken his boyfriend with a kiss.

However, neither of them realised that the kiss was now being timed at almost fifteen minutes.

"They haven't seen each other for what? Three hours?"

"With two freakin' long days in between." Raymond panted, breaking out of the kiss and crushing Malcolm against his chest. The smaller dancer nuzzled the American's neck, one of his smooth hands spread on Raymond's muscled back.

"Would I be right in guessing they're back together?" Andy inquired.

"Pretty much a given, ain't it?" Tommy gave the grinning dancer a look. "Were you born this dumb or did you get dropped on your head at birth?"

Andy's grin widened. "Well, actually," He started. "That's a funny story..."

"Oh God! No! I can't hear you! Lalalalala! I'm not listening!" Turning, Tommy fled, Andy hurrying after her, pleading for her to listen.

Hoping over the back of the chair in front of her, sitting down and opening the bottle of Sprite in her hand, Blue cocked her head at the two men sprawled comfortably on the couch opposite her. "So what's the deal?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did Goth-boy ditch you, Ray?"

Malcolm mumbled something against Raymond's neck and the big dancer nodded. "He ain't used to dealing with big issues with people, Tiny." He replied. "His twin sis went and got herself a load of leukemia and he thought I wouldn't be able to deal with it...he thought he wouldn't be able to deal either."

"So you thought being on your own would save everyone a lot of trouble, huh, Mal?" He nodded against Raymond's shoulder. "Been there, done that, got the T-shirt and really don't recommend it to anyone who wants to stay sane."

"Sane?"

"Did I mention the whole been there, done that thing?" She shuddered. "Alone isn't a nice place to be."

"I'm starting to realise that." Rolling onto his back, Malcolm looked over at her.

Blue smiled faintly at him. "How's your sis? Can they do anything?"

"Bone marrow transplant." He replied softly. "They say they're lucky they caught it so early and that I'm such a good match for her. They've booked us in for the treatment next week, the first opening they have."

"You'll do fine, hon." Raymond bent to gently kiss Malcolm's lips again. "As long as you don't go boozin' again, before then."

"And risk having Bob telling me that I should be purifying my body and mind?" Malcolm grinned slightly. "God knows what he would say about cleansing myself if I told him I shagged you in one of the empty cupboards in the hospital."

"Not to mention that in public, my darling." Raymond murmured, his eyes dancing.

"Darling?" Malcolm chuckled. "For that I would spill every gory little detail to our little Blue. She wouldn't be embarrassed, would you..." He turned to look at her, only to find a vacant chair where she had been. "Uh...then again, maybe she would."

Raymond nipped Malcolm's earlobe. "I'm not complaining." He murmured huskily. "I got you to myself again."

"All right, everybody!" Menke yelled from the open door of the common area. "Warm ups start in five minutes!"

"Miserable git!" Malcolm shouted back.

"Miserable git without a wife to keep me company, thank you very much, lil mister horny!" The Senior dancer sounded like he was about to laugh, but darted off before Malcolm could retort around Raymond's lips.

***

"It's arrived!" A shrill squeal from the door suggested that Blue was about to enter the warm-up area. Running in and almost slamming squarely into the back of Benjamin, the tiny dancer spun in a giddy circle. "Its here!"

"Oh God...the new shipment of jelly babies?"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Andy's viagra?"

A more masculine voice uttered a vehement. "Nuh-uh!"

Throwing herself up into Menke's arms, she planted a kiss on his nose. "Did they tell you?"

"Uh...huh?"

"My costume!" Hugging the silver- and black-haired dancer, Blue giggled. "The one made especially for me that actually fits me! It arrived this morning! They had people working on it all of yesterday!"

"So Dem doesn't have a saggy bum anymore?"

"Oh, shaddup!" Swatting at him, Blue grinned, leaping out of his arms and running over to where Andy was doing his stretches. "Andyandyandy!" He looked up at her. "I've got a proper Dem costume and its really cools and it fits me!"

"That's nice, kiddo." Grimacing as he straightened up, Andy bent to claim a light kiss, before Blue darted off again. She sped out of the door, looking for Tommy, while Andy painfully claimed a low bench to sit on against the wall.

Menke approached, a concerned look on his face. "Andy? You alright, man?"

"Yeah." He forced a grin, which faded rapidly. "Okay, maybe not." He rubbed his left ribs with his right hand. "It kinda hurts when I...well, when I pretty much do anything." He met the older dancer's eyes. "It's like something jabbing between my ribs every time I breathe in."

"Lemme look." Helping Andy painfully struggle out of his T-shirt, he ran his fingers over the area Andy said was hurting. There were no bruises visible on his tanned skin except on his back, no swellings anywhere. "Could be a trapped nerve..."

"Whatever it is," His voice strained and gruff, eyes glittering, Andy looked at his friend. "It hurts like buggery."

"What does?" Pulling her left leg up behind her, Geeta stretched down to touch her toes of her right foot. Repeating the action on the opposite limb, she straightened up and looked down at Andy. "Maybe I can help."

Menke answered before Andy could stop him. "I think Andy might have got a trapped nerve in his rib cage. Apparently, to quote, 'it hurts like buggery'." He made quotation marks with his fingers. "Any solution about what he could do?"

"Well, sometimes massaging the area can help." Geeta pushed her hair back from her face, unwinding a bobble from her wrist to pull the dark mass up in a ponytail. "I don't think the physios in yet. Want me to try and sort it out? I'm a trained masseuse." "Why doesn't that surprise me?" Andy mumbled, his face knit with pain. His hand shot to his ribs and he groaned. "At this stage, I think I'll try anything."

Both of the other dancers helped him stand up. "The physios room should be empty, so we'll had down there, okay, Andy?" Geeta give him a comforting smile. "We'll get you sorted out as soon as possible."

"Uh-huh." Andy gritted out, his ribs aching with every step.

***

With Malcolm seated on his lap, Raymond squinted, as he smoothed the thick, white greasepaint over his lover's cheeks with the sponge. The small dancer was returning the favour, adding the black patch over Raymond's right eye.

"You two are too much. Talk about a girly kind of bonding activity." Tommy laughed, as she past the door. Neither of the two men deigned to look at her, contentedly working on one another's make-up.

Taking the chance to exchange a kiss while they both still had white lips, a smudged white hand-print miraculously appeared on Malcolm's bare chest, two smaller black ones on Raymond's shoulders.

"Interesting technique for getting the makeup spread evenly." Jordan chuckled from the fourth make-up desk in the room. He was adding the neat white patch around his mouth with his small sponge, the tan make-up already covering the rest of his face.

Breaking apart, Raymond and Malcolm smiled shyly at each other, then reached for their brushes. "Let's see if I really have been staring at you too much, hon." Raymond murmured, dipping the brush into the black paint.

"Like you need to paint his face to prove that." A voice said from the door. Both men turned to see Blue in full Demeter regalia, grinning at them. Her gloves were tucked into the belt of her tail, which was tied loosely. "Where's Andy?"

"Uh...well..." All three men exchanged puzzled looks. "I haven't actually seen him since warm-ups." Malcolm volunteered.

"Me neither." Jordan frowned, lowering his sponge. "Which is weird cos he's always the first one putting his make-up on."

Raymond raised a hand. "I think Menke said somethin' about takin' him down to the physios or somethin' like that."

"Oki!" Grinning again, Blue nodded to him. "I'll let you go back to...uh...whatever it was you were doing." Turning, she bobbed off, looking around for Menke. Passing him and having him inform her that Andy was - indeed - at the physios room only increased her bouncy speed.

Wandering down the long hallway, she paused when she heard a low groan that sounded strangely familiar. A frown wrinkled her brow and she moved forward a little faster. The door of the physio's room was open a crack when she reached it and she squinted through the gap.

"Easy, big fella." Geeta's husky voice murmured lightly. "Don't want you looking like you're struggling to get through this."

"Bloody hell..." Andy groaned again. "Can you do that again?"

Blue's eyes widened with shock. She could see Geeta rising up and down over what could only be Andy's inert form on the physio's examination table, some of the view obscured by a coat hanging on the back of the door.

Tears sprang to the tiny dancer's eyes, her hand coming to her mouth to stifle a sob. Turning, she fled away down the hall, one of her gloves falling from her belt and left, lying alone in the silent corridor.

On his stomach, Andy raised his face. "Did you hear something?"

Geeta paused, straightening up and shaking her hair out of her eyes, her hands still resting on his ribs. "Want me to go and see?" He nodded and she crossed to the door, opening it. There was no one there.

Nothing there, but a single orange-gold glove.

Picking it up, she returned to the room. "This was lying out there." Andy sat up, rubbing his ribs gingerly. They didn't hurt as much and he turned his attention to the glove dangling between Geeta's fingers.

"Oh crap..." He whispered. "That's Blue's."

"Why 'crap'? Maybe she lost it?"

"Maybe she came to find me and heard something that sounded like something else and ran off, leaving that by accident." Geeta stared blankly at him. "Think of our great sound effects, Gee. I don't think it would take a genius to confuse the two little actions."

The dancer raised her brows. "You mean she thought we were screwing?"

"To put it baldly, it's more than likely." Standing up, he took the glove from her. "Thanks for sorting the ribs out." He started towards the door, when Geeta grasped his arm, a confused look on her face. "What?"

"She doesn't trust you. What kind of relationship is that?" She gave him a sultry smile. "You know I would trust you."

"Thanks very much for the offer, Gee, but like I said before, I love Blue, not you." Andy grinned tightly. "When you know Blue like I do, this isn't a trust issue." Stepping around her, he opened the door and exited into the hall.

Geeta smiled faintly. "Well, it was worth a try."

***

"C'mon, Tommy!" Knocking on the door, Andy sighed. "Just let me in. I want to talk to her."

The door opened and Andy was greeted with a sharp slap around the face from a scowling Tommy. "I thought you were decent, you son of a bitch." She snarled, the slap was reversed and Andy tasted blood from the inside of his cheek.

"Don't I even get a chance to explain?"

"What's to explain? You were getting down and dirty with Geeta."

"No, I wasn't." Tommy started to close the door, but Andy wedged his foot in the gap. "Listen to me, damnit, Tommy. Even Menke'll back me up in this one. I wouldn't screw around and you damn well know it!"

There was a silence from the other side of the door, then Tommy opened it slightly, her expression dark. "All right," She folded her arms across her chest. "Start explaining."

"I did my ribs in over the weekend." Leaning against the doorframe, Andy met her eyes and didn't look away. "I could barely even breath during the warm-ups. Menke noticed and he thought I had a trapped nerve, so he was going to send me to the physio."

"Pull the other one. Everyone knows the physio doesn't come in for another half an hour."

"Which is when Geeta offered to massage the ribs. Apparently that helps push the nerves back into place." He spread his palm against the door, trying to push it open, but Tommy's foot held it still. "Geeta's a certified masseuse and I was desperate to get rid of the pain, okay?"

Tommy's eyes were narrowed suspiciously. "And where's Geeta now?"

"I left her at the physio's room. She found Blue's glove in the hall." He held up the small glove. "I wanted to bring it back to her." He gave her a helpless look. "I know you probably don't believe me. Hell, I wouldn't believe me, but it's the truth. Ask Menke if you don't believe me. Please, Tommy? Can I see her?"

"Give me one good reason."

"I love her."

Tommy stepped back and door opened fully. Make-up smudged, Blue ran forward two steps, straight into his arms, bringing his mouth down to hers. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." She whispered between kisses.

"What for?" Going down on one knee to be level with her, he cupped her face in his hand.

"For being so bloody stupid. For not trusting you." She hugged him tightly, her wig prickling against his neck. "For letting Tommy slap you, but that one wasn't my fault. She wouldn't take no for an answer."

He laughed softly. "That doesn't surprise me, love." Tilting her chin, he kissed her gently. "You forgot this." He lifted her hand and slipped the glove onto it, smiling at her. "And you smudged your make-up..."

"At least I have make-up on." She smiled, her eyes glittering with tears. Her fingers ran down his cheek. "I'm looking at a very bald Munkustrap."

"How long til showtime, Tom?" Andy looked up, suddenly realising how behind he was.

"Five minutes, give or take." 

"CRAP!" With one last kiss, Andy scrambled to his feet and fled from the room.

Blue looked around at Tommy. "You're terrible, Tommy!" She wagged a finger. "He has at least twenty five minutes."

"Yeah," Tommy grinned wickedly. "But he doesn't know that."

***

Making her way up onto the stage, for her second night as possibly the shortest Demeter the world had ever seen, Blue slinked her way across towards the opposite side of the stage, looking around warily.

The sound of the car rang through the system, the spotlights slashing across the stage and catching her. With a hiss, she arched and dodged back towards the pipe alongside the tyre.

Without the loose rear of her unitard sagging down, she felt more confident than she had, two nights previously. 

Since her borrowed costume had been too big, despite all of the adjustments that had been made, she had resorted to tucking the loose fabric into the belt of her tail and the game for the rest of the cast had been to see who could tug it out first.

Adjusting her gloves as other members of the cast crept out around her, she shot a look up at Andy, almost grinning. He had managed to do his Munkustrap make-up in a record time of three minutes and twenty six seconds, timed by Raymond, who then pointed out with impish glee that he still had over twenty minutes to kill before he had to be anywhere near the stage.

During the first song of the show, Blue became suspicious that something was going on, out of her control. She found Andy watching her, an impish gleam in his eyes, then he looked away as something skimmed passed her rump.

Glancing over her shoulder as they moved into the positions for the listings of kinda of cats, she found Raymond grinning at her. A large hand clapped her on the rear, then one dark eye winked and he moved on.

"What the...?" She mumbled, as they broke apart for the final section of the song, spreading across the stage for the 'What's a Jellicle Cat?' line from John and Andy, at their position, upstage left.

Standing alone, balanced on one foot, her other foot raised slightly off the stage, she glanced around suspiciously, unable to shake the feeling that she was being specifically watched by someone or someone's.

Tony was the first to look up from her derriere at her face. He grinned, gave her an approving nod, then looked away. Blue almost lost her balance twisting slightly to look behind her at a couple of the other men.

One of the Johnson twins looked like he was panting, his eyes fixed on her rear, his tongue hanging out. Antoine had a smug, pleased grin on his face and he raised the hand that was balanced over his knee, making a squeeze gesture.

That really made Blue lose her balance.

Fortunately, it was when everyone else was cued to move anyway, so her stumble went unnoticed by most of the audience. Regaining her footing, she looked down at Tony and the Carbucketty twin, who had both come to their knees beside her.

Two hands playfully pinched her on the rear, then both men raced away before she could even yell in surprise.

Moving into 'The Naming' formation, she lost count of the skimming touches she received across her derriere and who was doing the touching. Part of her wanted to yell at everyone to stop, while the other parts were torn between bursting into tears or enjoying the attention.

As soon as 'The Naming' was over, she fled backstage, sitting down on the bottom stair of the flight, pulling her tail around in front of her. She received several grins from the men, but her lack of response surprised them.

"Blue?" Jordan sat down next to her. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." The second the words were out of her mouth, tears pricked her eyes and she buried her face in her arms. "Sorry..."

"What's wrong?" Awkwardly putting an arm around her shoulder, he hugged her. Like the character he played, Jordan was a stoic-faced, quiet man.

"They keep touching me...Everybody keeps touching me..." She whispered. "I dunno why...it reminds me of things...things I don't want to remember..." She scrambled to her feet as she realised she was meant to be on any moment. "Sorry." She added again, before running off.

Tony cocked his head, as Jordan rose and walked towards him. "What's up with tiny?"

"She doesn't like being groped. Tell the guys to leave off." He replied quietly, looking to his left as Rachel came alongside him. They exchanged headrubs, moving completely in sync with one another.

In his Admetus make-up, Tony nodded, scratching behind his ear. "Right-o. You two freak me out, you know." They gave him identical, expressionless stares and he nodded, backing off. "I'm telling guys to back off, now."

"You going to keep an eye on her?" Rachel murmured to her partner in crime, their make-up practically identical.

Jordan nodded. "I'll keep the other guys away from her arse." He replied, as they slinked over the back of the tyre, his voice low. "Most of them don't know how freaked out she is by being touched when she can't see them."

Exchanging another headrub, she nodded, motioning him forward towards Blue.

***

Of all the cast members, Blue seemed to be the only one who didn't notice that she was under guard by Coricopat, and if he was out of sight, Tantomile was by her side. Even when Tommy approached, one of the twin calicos would hiss at her.

The game of teasing Blue over her nice, neat, pert rump had been quickly and quietly cancelled, both Jordan and Rachel determinedly stopping any of the male cast members from going anywhere near their already jumpy Demeter.

Andy was the only one permitted within a two foot radius, Coricopat and Tantomile settling themselves as near her as possible without incurring the wrath of the stage-manager.

During _Jennyanydots_, when she was perched on the tyre with Tommy and Caroline, both of them settled behind her, gazing ominously down at anyone who dared to even try and touch her hand or foot.

Even Tommy didn't get away with it, receiving a sharp slap on the hand, when she tried to sneak her hand down behind Blue's back, while they were seated on the tyre. Looking around, she received a glare from both Jordan and Rachel. 

Keeping her eye on the pair for the rest of the song, she waited until _Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser_ came up, darting out behind the stage after them, while Andy caught up with Blue elsewhere.

"What are you two playing at?" She demanded in hushed tones.

Standing side-by-side, Jordan and Rachel seemed to be constantly in character while they were in their makeup. Turning to each other, they nodded in sync, then turned back to Tommy, Jordan replying. "The guys were grabbing Blue. She was getting upset by it."

"Crud..." Tommy groaned. "I shoulda thought of that."

"You're right." Rachel nodded.

"You should have." Jordan agreed.

Rubbing her neck, Tommy sighed. "Okay. We're agreed. I'm a complete idiot." Both the dark twins grinned at her and she scowled back at them both. "And you know I hate it when you act like that."

"Of course." They said in unison.

"And don't tell me you didn't practice that." They merely stared at her blankly, tilting their heads slowly to the right. "I hate you, guys." A cheeky grin spread across each patterned face. "I really, really hate you."

***

In the lead in to 'The Jellicle Ball', Andy had been able to reassure himself that no more of the male cast members were about to grab at his girlfriend's bum. He had also told himself that Coricopat and Tantomile's protection racket had collapsed.

However, he was wrong.

After the infamous Bombalurina bump-n-grind routine, as Tommy led the Queens onto the front of the stage, Andy found himself shunted into Jordan's space in the line-up, while Jordan lined up to lift Blue, who shot a bewildered look in his direction.

Swinging Rachel up onto his shoulder, Andy poked her in the ribs. "What's going on?" He hissed as he lowered her. She gave him a blank stare, then went back to Jordan's side, there he was standing near Blue.

Apparently the tiny dancer had been informed about something and was grinning impishly in the direction of her lover. It gave him a very, very bad feeling that a conspiracy was afoot in the state of New London.

Scattering around the stage, in preparation for Raymond lifting Geeta, Andy could see Blue sandwiched snugly between Coricopat and Tantomile, both of them gazing triumphantly over in his direction.

As the lift took place, various people moved around to find their allotted partners and Andy felt a feminine hand touch his arm. He turned, expecting to find Blue, only to find Tantomile smiling coyly up at him.

Staring at her in confusion, he searched out Blue among the various other characters. His eyes bugged in his head. She and Jordan were completely wound around one another in positions that wouldn't have looked out of place in the Kama Sutra.

Both rising on their knees, his forearm under her back, she arched her body back until the back of her head was resting between her feet. Jordan's other hand raked down her chest, as he brought her upright, their noses rubbing teasingly against each other's.

Winding a leg around him, they sank down on their side together and that was when Andy suddenly realised he had done nothing in the most intimate moment of the show but watch his girlfriend get rubbed up by another dancer.

Rachel was chuckling, as she hauled him down on the stage beside her, rubbing a hand over his ribcage.

"Don't worry about them." She murmured loudly enough for him to hear. "I'll keep Cori on a short leash for the rest of the show." 

"Comforting." Andy mumbled, as her leg curled around his hip and they both raised their arms towards the ceiling.

She didn't have a chance to say anything more to him as the series of chords and dischords rang out, signaling the opening of the _Jellicle Ball_ and they all scrambled to their feet, as the lights flickered wildly.

***

"Feeling better now that you've got a new friend?" Stepping behind Blue, Andy wrapped his arms around her.

"Jealous?" Grinning up at him, the small dancer squeezed one of his hands.

Andy bent to press a kiss to her forehead. "I'm jealous of anyone who gets to touch you when I don't, Shorty." He replied. "And that thing you did with your legs around his shoulder...can you do that all the time?"

"Maybe." She gave him a coy look. "But my rooms too small to practice in."

"Oh, good! You're still here!" Hurrying out from her own dressing room, a handful of envelopes gripped in her hand, Rachel waved over at them. Her bobbed brown hair looked impeccable, not at all as if it had just been crammed under a wig for nearly three hours. Her make-up was perfect too. "I was hoping I'd catch you. Are Ray, Mal, Tommy and Jonny about?"

"What have we done now?" Tommy groaned, slinking out of the dressing room, adding a band to the end of her braid.

"Nothing." Rachel smiled broadly. "I just wanted to give you one of these." She handed the trio an envelope each, then the other three as they came out of their dressing rooms, loaded down with their rucksacks. 

Jordan joined her, as they curiously examined the envelopes. 

"Doesn't Jordan get one?" Blue inquired.

"Him? Nah. Doesn't need one." She motioned for them to open the neat, white envelopes. "I want to get replies now." She urged.

"Okay, okay." Tommy sighed, opening the envelope with a manicured fingernail. "What have we got here, then?" A white and gold card nestled inside the envelope and she plucked it out, opening it. "Dear Tommy, you're invited to the anniversary celebration of Jordan and Rachel on...um...anniversary? What anniversary? Your anniversary of playing Cori and Tanto?"

Jordan chuckled. "Read on."

"On November fifteenth, to celebrate ten years of Holy...crap!"

"That's not the wording, Tom." Rachel smiled. "I think you'll find it says matrimony."

"You're not freaking married!" 

Jordan smiled broadly, a strange expression on his tattooed face. "Actually, we are. Have been for ten years now, as the card says." He glanced at Rachel. "Get the feeling they don't believe us, love?"

"First Antoine, then you guys..." Raymond moaned miserably. "I think there's a world conspiracy against me."

"But you can't be married!" Tommy protested.

"Yeah! You have different names!" Blue added.

Rachel laughed, looping an arm around her husband's waist. "That's only because I couldn't get an agent unless I used a name that wasn't already in the books, so I kept my maiden name." She reached under Jordan's leather Hell's Angels jacket and squeezed his rear through his taut, leather trousers. "You're going to love our kids."

"KIDS!?!" Andy yelped.

Blue gave her boyfriend's hand a squeeze. "At least they didn't tell us before we went on."

"But we've been working with them for frigging months!" Andy wailed miserably. "They didn't tell us!" He looked at the odd couple, then suspiciously asked. "Did anyone in the crew actually know you're hitched?"

"Only Antoine." Jordan replied, still smiling.

"Question!" Malcolm raised a hand. "Did you marry him when he looked like...er...that?"

"The tattoos? That came on the honeymoon." She gave her husband a smile. "He got the tatts. I got the piercings." She paused, thinking for a moment. "And one tattoo."

Tommy suspiciously eyed the seemingly quiet dancer. "Piercings? Plural? And they're not in either of your ears or any part of your face..." A thoroughly innocent expression crossed Rachel's pretty face. A dreamy look filled Tommy's. "Oh God..."

"And Tommy has someone new to fantasize about playing with..." Blue said, recognising the expression on her roommate's face.

"Is that a good thing?" Rachel grinned.

"Well, it's definitely a compliment of the strangest kind." Blue received a reproving look from Tommy. "She fancied Antoine's wife as well."

"Can I help it if she was drop dead gorgeous?" Tommy muttered petulantly. "All right, kid, we're going. I'm gonna spank you for being so cheeky tonight." Blue chuckled. "And you guys, if we can swing it, we'll be at the anniversary...can we bring someone?"

"Anyone you like."

"And the dress code?"

"Anything you like."

A wickedly sexy grin crossed Tommy's face. "Oh goodie." She purred.

***

Over a week had past since Malcolm and Raymond's temporary break-up. Now, Raymond was waiting in the small two-person ward for his lover to be returned from the bone-marrow removal procedure.

He had wanted to go in with Malcolm, to make sure he was okay, but the smaller dancer had asked to be knocked out for the procedure, because of his phobia of needles and had explained that he probably wouldn't even have realised that Raymond was there.

The doctors had agreed to Malcolm's request for anaesthetic, which was just as well, because even seeing a needle was liable to literally give the smaller dancer a fit. It had caused many problems at school inoculations against diseases.

Dressed in one of the loose blue shifts provided by the hospital, he had been taken into the theatre area, Raymond standing beside him, holding his hand as they placed the gas mask over his face. 

"I'll see you later, hon." The big dancer had murmured, his other hand gently stroking Malcolm's forehead. A faint smile appeared on the small dancer's lips before his eyes sank closed and the doctors ushered Raymond out.

Pacing across the room again, he looked out of the window at the greyness of London, an impatient sigh escaping him. His eyes drifted to both of the empty beds, then back out of the window. Rain was pattering against the glass softly.

Returning to Malcolm's vacant bed, he lifted himself up onto the edge of the mattress, leaning on his knees, staring into nothing. He couldn't say how long he was sitting like that, but a sound from the door made him sit up.

A bed was being wheeled in, a small-looking figure curled on its side, beneath the heavy blue and white hospital sheets and blankets.

"Afternoon, sir." One of the pretty female nurses smiled at him. "Your friend is fine. He's just a bit woozy at the moment." Raymond scrambled out the way, as the wheeled stretcher was pulled alongside Malcolm's bed.

With what looked like great ease, they transferred the blanket-decked figure onto the bed, tucking the blankets under the edges of the mattress neatly, before disappearing out of the door with the stretcher.

Circling the bed, Raymond dragged one of the chairs with him, sitting down beside the bed, gazing at his boyfriend.

Malcolm looked paler than usual, lying on his right side, his right hand bent up under his head, to serve as a pillow. His eyes were closed, his hair scraped back from his face in a loose ponytail at the base of his skull.

His left hand lay behind him, hooked up to a drip on his other side, clear fluid dripping from a plastic bag, into the tube that ran down to his hand.

Reaching over the edge of the bed, Raymond gently pulled the band of elastic from the black and red hair, letting it all spill around Malcolm's face. He brushed his thumb along the pale cheek. "Hey, sweetie."

Bleary eyes blinked slowly open. A whisper of a smile passed over the younger dancer's lips.

"How are you feeling?"

"Ugh."

"That good, huh?"

"Mmm." Bringing his hand out from beneath his face, leaving a red pressure mark on his pale cheek, he groped for Raymond's hand. Raymond smiled, wrapping his fingers gently around his lover's, his smile widening as Malcolm tiredly brought Raymond's fingers to his lips, softly kissing them. "Love you."

Rising on his knees on the chair, Raymond leaned over the younger dancer, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Love you too, hon." Standing, he sat on the edge of the mattress as Malcolm managed to roll onto his back, his body unfolding beneath the blankets. "Kiss?" Blue eyes found dark brown, his voice plaintive.

"You big softy." Raymond chuckled, leaning down to gently kiss Malcolm, his hand tenderly stroking loose hair out of the smaller man's eyes.

Pulled up in Raymond's arms, Malcolm murmured. "Marry me?"

"You're talkin' crazy talk, sweetie." It didn't, however, disguise the wide smile that split the big dancer's face.

"Thatta yes?"

Raymond rumbled a deep laugh. "You know it, hon." He replied, bringing his lips against Malcolm's again, one hand cradling the smaller dancer's face. "You better get me one helluva pretty ring, though."

The small dancer raised his arms to embrace his lover, when a tugging on his skin of one of his hands made his eyes widen in fright. "Ray!" He whimpered, bringing his left hand up to stare at the base of the drip that was still sticking out of his hand. "Easy, love, easy." Taking the needle-decked hand in one of his own, Raymond turned Malcolm's face back to his, making the blue eyes look at him instead of at the needle. "It's okay, okay? It won't go anywhere. It's staying right there and it won't hurt."

Tears of fear sprang to Malcolm's eyes, his body starting to shake. "Get it out. Get it out." He moaned pleadingly, staring up at Raymond. "I don't like it...I don't like it... please..."

"Mal, listen to me." Holding Malcolm's chin in his large hand, he met the blue eyes again. "Listen to me." He repeated gently. "You need this thing in, okay? They wouldn't have put it in, if it wasn't important."

"I don't like it, Ray. I don't like it." Malcolm whispered.

"I know, hon, I know." Touching his brow to Malcolm's, Raymond stroked his cheek. "Just pretend its not there. Think about something else."

"I can't." Panting as if he had just run a marathon, his body still shaking, Malcolm looked like he was on the verge of a seizure.

Without thinking about it, Raymond sealed his lips over Malcolm's, inducing his lover to respond to the deep, sensual kiss. Malcolm's eyes went wide briefly, then sank shut as his right arm went around Raymond, drawing him down, over his body.

When Malcolm relaxed beneath him, Raymond broke out of the kiss, smiling softly. Worn out and still half-conscious from the anaesthetic, Malcolm murmured something, before curling onto his left side and falling asleep.

"That's my boy." Pushing his shoes off his feet, Raymond managed to spoon himself around his blanket-decked lover, using his left arm as a muscular pillow for Malcolm, his right arm around the smaller dancer's slim waist. Touching a kiss to Malcolm's neck, he murmured. "Sleep well, hon."

***

Considering the scale of the operation he had just had, the management had expected the young dancer to take at least a week off, but – fortunately for them – he only took two days, including a Sunday and was back for the shows on the Tuesday.

It was fortunate because one of the two Mistoffelees understudies, one of the Johnson twins had lost his footing on the rope descending from the ceiling and plummeted to the stage from nearly seven feet up.

He had managed to disguise the fall by going into a somersault, but not without its consequences. He had landed on his right hand, snapping two bones in his palm, one in his wrist and causing three cracks to the bones in his forearm.

Struggling through the routine, he had successfully finished it, but straight afterwards, he had climbed over the back of the tyre, running backstage in tears of agony, his lip hand cradled against his chest. 

His twin had followed him during the Re-Addressing, finding him curled up in a ball in the corner physio's room, crying his eyes out after receiving the upsetting news that he wouldn't be able to perform for at least a couple of months because of the damage. 

Coming out for the bows, the pair had immediately run to their dressing room afterwards, where they were found wrapped around other and crying by Norman, who had been wanting to check on the smallest dancers since the fall had occurred.

Despite playing Tugger, Norman was a stage professional and had seen many nasty accidents, but nothing had rivaled seeing the smallest male in the cast dropping from high above them onto the hard stage.

With the revelation that one of the twins was out for months came the news that their resident Tugger was leaving as well, because an ankle injury that he hadn't told anyone about was causing him too much pain to continue. He was leaving to have surgery and probably would never dance again.

A former Tugger was being called in to start some rehearsals the following week, but it was doubted that he would need to rehearse, considering his reputation. A perfectionist in every way, he could perform the role backwards if anyone asked him.

Someone had once and he had done all of the _Mistoffelees_ number backwards, including lyrics, which stopped anyone ever betting against him again.

Daubing his make-up on, Malcolm was strangely quiet, despite Raymond's happy chatter alongside him. He felt strangely guilty, like he was to blame for what had happened to little Johnson one or two. He still hadn't worked out which was which.

"You feelin' up the this, sweetie?"

"Hmm?"

Andy looked from one to the other. "What's up?"

"I shouldn't have taken yesterday off." Malcolm said quietly, powdering the white layer of his make-up. Laying aside the powder and the white paint, he drummed on the desk with the thick make-up brush.

"Surely you're not blaming yourself for Will's fall."

Malcolm looked up at Andy. "If I had been here, he wouldn't have fallen."

"You big dork!" Raymond moved swiftly and gathered Malcolm in his arms. "It wasn't your fault! You couldn't have stopped him falling." Snatching the brush from Malcolm's hand, he started dusting off the layer of powder. "You'd just had a major operation thingie and there was no way I was gonna let you outta that ward."

The youngest dancer of the four in the room nodded reluctantly, pressing back against Raymond's chest, squeezing one of his lover's muscular forearms. "I know." He replied softly.

***

The absence of one of the naughty twins could be felt on the stage, from the moment the show started. It seemed wrong to see Carbucketty bouncing around the stage, alone, a melancholy look on his face in the absence of Bill Bailey.

Anytime they could, older cast members would let the kitten-boy cuddle up to them. Norman especially looked out for the small dancer, motioning for Carbucketty to come and sit beside Tugger, whenever he felt like it.

Seeing that didn't make Malcolm feel any better. Whenever he could, he would slip to the other side of the stage to cuddle up next to Raymond, who could tell that his small lover's anxiety levels were already sky high.

By the end of the first half of the show, Malcolm was already regretting coming back to work. During the intermission, he spent the whole break cuddled in Raymond's lap, his arms around his lover's neck.

It didn't take a genius to see that he was on the verge of tears.

"S'okay, sweetie." Raymond murmured, as they went back down towards the stage, his arm still protectively around the smaller dancer.

Malcolm looked out at the stage dolefully. "I can't help thinking that something worse is going to happen." He said.

"Don't say that, hon." Giving Malcolm a comforting hug, the big American dancer could feel a shiver run through Malcolm's body. 

The small dancer was tired, he was miserable, he was confused, he was worried about his sister and he felt guilty. All the emotions that never compounded well in a normal person were ten times worse in sensitive Malcolm.

Sleep-walking his way through the second half of the show, oblivious to the applause and the comments from his friends, he stumbled his way up the long flight of stairs to his dressing room, followed by Raymond.

However, someone was waiting there for them.

One of the Managers.

The expression on his face made Malcolm want to turn and run away.

"Mr. Donovan." Backing away, Malcolm stepped squarely against Raymond and felt the larger dancer's hands squeeze his shoulders reassuringly.

"Yes?"

"When you have changed, I would like a word with you in my office."

A look of panic crossed Malcolm's thin face. "What's wrong?" He demanded, his voice shaking.

"Come to my office, when you're ready, and we can talk in private." This was said with a pointed look at Raymond, who glared down at the bearded man.

"Can't you tell me here?"

The man shook his head. "I'm afraid it would be...inappropriate." He smiled thinly, in a way that was probably meant to be comforting. "I'll see you when you're ready." Turning, he walked away from the young dancer.

"Oh God." Malcolm sank back against Raymond, his hands coming to his face. "I knew it, Ray. I knew it...something bad's happened..." He felt his lover's arms go around him protectively and let the tears fall. "Something bad's happened." He repeated like a mantra. "Something bad...something bad..."

Raymond was unable to find any words that would comfort him, simply hugging him tightly.


	12. The Cast - Part 12 - Maddening Mister Mi...

Seated on the edge of the chair in the manager's office, Malcolm's hands were resting on his knees, the tips of his fingers biting into his kneecaps painfully. His eyes were fixed on the rim of the desk in front of him, waiting for the manager to speak.

"Mr. Donovan…Malcolm."

"Just tell me already." The dancer snapped. "What's wrong? Is it my sister?"

"Your sister?"

Blood-shot pale blue eyes rose to the bearded man behind the desk. "You remember something about an absence because of a bone marrow transplant?" A look of startled understanding crossed Jamieson's face. 

"My dear fellow, nothing has happened to your sister, if that was what you were so worried about!" He fumbled over the words, suddenly realising the hole he had dug himself into.

"How bloody considerate." Sitting back, half-slouching in the chair, Malcolm, folded his hands in the lap. "And don't call me your 'dear fellow'. I'm not a kid to be talked down to. Tell me what you want, so I can get out of here and go and see my sister."

"Actually, this is…rather important." Jamieson clearly did not like being talked to in that fashion and his expression said as much. "In fact, your position in this company actually depends on the decision you make here."

"Pardon me?"

"We have a…how can I put this? A situation that has arisen from the increasingly low numbers of attendees of this show." Malcolm slowly straightened in his seat, a suspicious feeling filling him. "Because of this, the heads of the company thought it would be wise to bring in some famous names."

"And one of them is going to be Misto…?" Malcolm guessed, flinching back in his seat.

Ignoring the question for that moment, Jamieson shuffled the papers on the desk. "As you may know," He said conversationally. "A couple of years ago, a video version of the show was released on video. The cast in it were…"

"I don't give a shit about a video!" On his feet, screaming with anger, Malcolm slammed his fist on the desk. "Are you giving my job to someone else?"

"Sit down please."

"Are you?"

"I asked you to sit down, Mr. Donovan." Jamieson's voice was crisp and cool, his hands folded on the desk. "If you wish to remain employed, I would advise you to take heed of what I am saying."

Reluctantly, Malcolm sank down in the seat he had occupied, staring down at the floor between his bare feet. "What's going on?" He asked, blinking fiercely to try and stop the tears that were threatening to fall.

"As I was saying, there was a video production of 'Cats' on world release, so the upper management believe that bringing in one or two of the cast members from it may benefit the profits of the show."

"And they chose Mistoffelees." The dancer's voice was a tremulous monotone.

Jamieson made no response to the statement, shuffling through some papers. "Joseph Brown has gained fame on Broadway and various other parts of the U.S.A., but he is most famous for his rendition of Mistoffelees in the video so we weren't about to let the chance to have him here pass us." 

"In other words, its still all about the money."

Again, Jamieson ignored his words, laying the neatly re-neatened heap of papers on the desktop. "That is why I have asked you to come and see me, Malcolm. I've had a look at your C.V. and experience."

"And you gave some American ponce my bloody job, without even asking me."

The older man's pale grey eyes stared at him chillingly. "I am about to make you an offer that means you would still be first in line to understudy Mistoffelees when Brown arrives. If it is not to your liking, you are free to seek employment elsewhere."

"You can't cancel my contract!"

"Which is why I think you should listen to me, young man." Standing up, Jamieson glowered down at the dancer. Malcolm lowered his head again, staring at the front of the desk. "We have several openings to be filled, what with injuries and departures of several male cast members and swings."

"You what?"

Sitting back down, Jamieson leaned forward, giving what he hoped was a fatherly smile to the young dancer. "As you know, William Johnson had a serious fall last night and will be out of the show for some time."

"He plays Bill Bailey."

"Yes, and also understudies Mistoffelees and Mungojerrie."

"You can't be suggesting what I think you're suggesting…" Malcolm shook his head, pushing his chair back, his expression one of disgust. "I don't do cutesy kittens. I'm a dancer, not an acrobatic, nutty kitten."

"Your C.V. says that you are a capable gymnast, which fits the role of Bill Bailey and Mungojerrie and you have a strong enough singing voice, which is in the right vocal range for Mungojerrie." Jamieson skewered him with a cold look. "I suggest that you learn to do cutesy kittens pretty damn fast, or you'll be closely acquainting yourself with the walls of your dressing room for the next three months, after Brown arrives, because that's all you'll have a chance to see!"

"You're saying that I'll be the main Misto understudy, even if I don't do anything else for the rest of the shows? I just hang around to see if he wants to go on, then sod off home, because I have nothing to do and get no pay for it?"

Jamison's smile was cold and thin. "I think you are starting to see why it would be an advantage to listen to me."

"So what's the deal here?"

"There is a section in the contract that gives us the right to assign you roles that you would be able to play." Malcolm wanted to punch him in the mouth. "In signing your contract, you waived all rights of refusal, so you can either take the roles we offer, or remain as simply a Mistoffelees understudy, nothing more."

"Do I really have any choice at all in this?"

Jamieson's thin smile grew a fraction thinner. "Not really."

"But my main role will be Bill Bailey?"

"That's correct."

"And when will this be from?"

"Joseph Brown arrives next week and has been rehearsing with the Broadway cast, so he shouldn't be too out of practise." Jamieson replied. "There will be a week of rehearsal and then, you'll assume the role of Bill Bailey. Is this clear?"

"As crystal, Sir." Rising, Malcolm didn't shake the outstretched hand, rounding the chair and going straight to the door, his face obscured by the thick curtain of red and black hair.

Closing the door lightly behind him, he managed to stumble three paces down the hall, before a gulping sob tore through him. Sagging against the wall, he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, sinking to his knees on the rough carpet.

"Hon?" From the other end of the hall, he saw Raymond rise from the seat he had taken, waiting for his return. "Hon, what is it?"

In less than three heartbeats, Raymond had tenderly gathered in his weeping lover in his arms, cradling him tenderly, and rocking him.

"Ray..." The younger dancer's lips sought out the elder's, claiming a demanding, punishing kiss, then pressed his face into the hollow of Raymond's neck, his whole body shaking with sobs. "They've taken my fuckin' job, Ray...they've taken it from me..."

"What?" The black dancer's voice was a low snarl. "Hon, what have they done?"

"Some git...from America...famous...they gave him my part...cos he's famous..." And held close to his lover's chest, he poured out the full story of what had happened in the office and how his favourite job in the world had been snatched from him.

***

"Those bastards!" Nicky Johnson had surprised everyone with his violent outburst. He kicked one of the chairs over, storming to and fro across the floor. "My brother's just out for a few weeks and they already reassign his damn job! Why the hell do they want an American tosser to come in as well? It just means more rehearsing for the rest of us for one bloody person!"

"What about Mal, though?" Tommy leaned across the gap between the chairs to squeeze Malcolm's knee. "Are you sure?"

"Tommy, I think the whole cryin' on my shoulder says it is."

"They want money." Malcolm's voice was a croak, his face still shielded by Raymond's chest and arms. "They don't care who has to be booted about. They just want a load of money and this guy...Jo," He spat the name vehemently. "Is a star. I'm not."

Raymond rocked the smaller dancer close to him. "Hon, do you want me to break his head? I could do that, y'know."

"No, Ray." Settling his head against his lover's shoulder, Malcolm released a sigh. "I guess I should just be grateful that I still have a job, huh?" He absently ran his fingers along the folds of Raymond's vest. "Apparently they have my costume already anyway…they told the costumers weeks ago, before I even knew…" He raised his eyes to his lover. "Ray…?"

"I'm comin' with you, sweetie." Helping the smaller dancer to rise, Raymond got to his feet. "Let's go and see what crappy outfit they're puttin' you into, hon."

***

"I hate this." 

"I know you do, sweetie." Fastening the poppers on the shoulders of Malcolm's new Bill Bailey costume, Raymond ruffled the fluff. He turned his lover around to look him up and down. "You do look pretty cute in a different colour, though."

Malcolm looked at his reflection in the full-length mirror that stood against the wall, biting down on his lower lip so hard that he could taste blood. He wanted to grab his Mistoffelees costume from the hanger and pull that on. The new costume felt...wrong.

Looked it too. The mainly white unitard made his thin body look even thinner, the small spattering of patches of brown and grey the only thing that defined him as something other than a pure white kitten.

His first attempt at Bill Bailey make-up was still daubed on his face and he knew he was going to have to work with it. It looked so...boring. One big brown patch unartistically splattered over one eye wasn't his idea of make-up. 

That would change soon, he knew. They could take the Goth out of the black and white costume, but they couldn't take the black and white costume out of the Goth.

"Why me, Ray? Why couldn't they bring in anyone but Misto?" He raised his hand to touch the fuzzies on his shoulders. The absence of the matt of black and white fluff on his chest made him feel bare, somehow.

He felt a large hand squeeze his shoulder gently. "Hon, you should feel flattered that they can give you another role. Hell, they've given you two more." Raymond turned him around gently, cupping Malcolm's thin face in his hands. "A lotta Mistos I've met can only dance, and most of 'em only do ballet." He claimed a quick kiss. "You've got talent."

"But they still got a big-time star in to replace me."

"It's only for a little while, hon." Accepting the brown and white wig from the wig mistress, the big dancer offered it to his partner. "Why not make the most of it and show the managers that they can go screw themselves?"

Positioning the wig carefully over his stocking cap, Malcolm nodded, turning to straighten it in the mirror. He scowled at his reflection, turning his body this way and that, to examine his body from every angle. "I really don't like this."

"You look cute, sweetie."

"That's the bloody problem." The dark scowl intensified, only making the kitten look all the more adorable and pouty.

Raymond stepped behind the smaller man, his arms wrapping around Malcolm's waist and drawing him back against his broad, bare chest. "You'll be great, hon." He murmured softly, as Malcolm leaned into the embrace.

"What next?" He sighed, after a few moments of silence.

"Your understudy Mungojerrie costume is ready for you to try on as well." The Senior Wardrobe Mistress was still finding it difficult to imagine the quiet young dancer playing anyone except the aloof Mistoffelees.

The Bill Bailey costume was dispatched disdainfully in a matter of minutes and the young Goth quickly pulled the brightly-coloured and patterned Mungojerrie costume on, adding the vest, socks and wig.

"Doesn't he just look adorable?" A throaty purr sounded from the doorway, both men turning to see Tommy standing there in full Grizabella regalia. Her new make-up design was exotic and strikingly beautiful, her pose provocative and sensual. "What do you think? Am I sex goddess yet?"

"Hon, you earned that title long ago." Raymond nodded approvingly. "Love what you've done with the make-up." He gave Malcolm a gentle nudge. "What about you, hon?"

"I feel stupid." Malcolm mumbled morosely. "I'm...colourful."

"Don't worry, sweets. At least you don't have to play Skimbleshanks." Tommy approached, draping an arm around Malcolm's shoulder and looking both of their reflections up and down with a nod. "We, my dear," She breathed huskily. "Are too damn beautiful." "And so modest." Raymond chuckled.

"But of course." Tommy flashed a sexy smile in his direction.

Malcolm tugged at his new vest, pulling a face. The Bill Bailey really didn't seem to fit with the vivid Mungojerrie make-up and costume and neither costume seemed to fit in with his favourite crow-styled make-up.

"Don't worry, kid." Tommy's arm around him tightened fractionally. "Just cos you feel you look stupid doesn't mean you look it." She lifted his face, examining her make-up. "And you get the chance to show little Johnson what real make-up should look like."

"But I don't want the colours."

"You don't have much choice, sweetie." Raymond murmured. "And you know, a little variety never hurt anyone."

Malcolm glared at the mirror. "Well, it might hurt the management," He said quietly, pulling off the wig and vest. "In the form of a baseball bat, my hand and the gravitational force that brings the two inexplicably together."

"That's the spirit!" Tommy said cheerfully, bending to press a kiss to his nose. "Ray, make sure if he does away with them, that he gets rids of the bodies as well."

"Count on it, sweets." The big dancer chuckled, as Tommy strolled away, whistling to herself.

***

"Hola people! What's the what here?"

"Hey, Roberto!" Antoine flashed a broad grin at the man who had just strutted into the rehearsal room. He had immediately caught every eye, raising one hand to casually brush back a loose lock of jet black hair. "Nice to see you back again."

The returning Tugger was as tall as Andy, if not an inch or two taller. His posture and attitude oozed pure Tugger-ness, his tanned, exotic-looking features split in a constant grin that often melted into a smirk.

Twenty-nine years old, Roberto Busco had understudied Tugger in one of the tours and had played the same role for six months in London, after being upgraded from one of the minor characters. A loose mop of wild curls hung around his face, impish brown eyes glittering with the promise of good humour.

"Well, well...all eyes on lil ol' me..." He fanned himself with a hand, his other hand pressed to his chest. "I'm so overcome! I might have to..." His eyes fixed on Tommy and she straightened up, a sensual smile on her lips. "Hell-oh momma!"

Spreading her hands at her sides, Tommy slowly pivoted herself around as if to look for the one he was eyeing, her body dipping enticingly, then looked back at him. Her voice was the husky purr she did so well. "Oh, you were talking about me?"

"Baby, I've been praying about you all my life!"

Slinking towards to him, she raised both hands, spreading them on his chest. Face-to-face, their noses nearly touching, both of them looking like they desperately wanted to grab the other in a lip-lock, Tommy whispered. "Keep prayin', Junior."

With a playful shove away from him, she flicked her tail up and strutted off with a coy look back at him.

"Momma always said do what the lady says." He gave her a wickedly sexy grin, prowling after her. "You got a nice...Holy place I can go into? Y'know, for religious purposes...purgin' myself of all the naughty thoughts I'm havin' right this second."

"Squirting out the crap filling your...head?" She gave him a flirtatious smile as he came up behind her, hands coming to rest on her hips and pulling her back against him. "Toilets third door on the left."

The rest of the cast members lounging around the rehearsal room started chuckling as the two exchanged genuine grins and broke apart. "Nice to see you again, Berto." Tommy reached up to hug him. "It's been a long time."

"You haven't changed a bit, you old fox, you." He kissed her warmly on the mouth. "Are you still sure I can't convince you to join us straight people?"

"What?" Tommy laughed. "And break the hearts of every lesbian and bisexual woman from here to...well, everywhere?"

"Ah, that wonderful modesty of yours, again." He slapped her on the rear, grinning at her. "You seem to have upgraded your role since the last time we were in this room together. What is it? Ten years ago already?"

"Feeling your age?" She cooed, scratching his chest.

"Tommy, you've gone from being Vicky, the innocent little kitten, to being my favourite slut-bomb." He sighed, shaking his head. "I can't help remembering the good old days when I was a psycho cat and you were white and silky."

"You were the weirdest Cori I ever saw." She agreed, laughing, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Not that that was a bad thing." They looked to the door as the last knot of people entered, lead by one of the managers.

"Oh crap." Roberto murmured under his breath. "Old man Jamieson is still here? He hasn't gone and died yet?"

"We can hope." Tommy replied, as Jamieson motioned the person behind him to join them. A small, delicate-looking dancer with a shock of blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes stepped up beside him, looking around with a too-perfect smile. "Oh God...they brought in a Mr. Apple Pie."

"Everybody, this is Joseph Brown, our new Mistoffelees from the video and Broadway." A muffled but very rude curse sounded from somewhere behind a large, black, male dancer, who was scowling at Jamieson.

"Hi." Looking around awkwardly, the perfect smile stayed in place. 

"Well, since we've got all our newbies in, I guess this means we can get rehearsals going, then." Menke stood up from where he had been doing his stretches on the floor. He waited for Jamieson to leave, but the manager's eyes had come to rest elsewhere. Looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, Blue stared back at the manager. She took a nervous step back, her back meeting the bar that ran along the length of the wall beside the mirrors.

"Miss Spence." His voice coated with ice, Jamieson motioned her towards the door. "Perhaps I could have a word with you."

The young dancer shot a terrified, pleading look in Tommy's direction. The older dancer shrugged helplessly and Blue reluctantly followed the man out of the door, which closed quietly behind them.

Menke grimaced, then turned back to the group. "Well, we have three new arrivals."

"Four!" An indignant voice yelled from the back of the group.

Green eyes went wide with shock and the dancer stared at the group. "Oh, God, don't tell me they let you back in!"

"Only the best dancer the shows ever had." A sandy-haired man in his late twenties emerged from the group, grinning. "Didn't they warn you I'd be...Menke!" Caught in a tight hug, Philip yelped in protest. "I love you too, but the guys are watching!"

"You didn't tell me you'd be back, you daft git!" Menke laughed. "I knew they were desperate for swings, but I didn't figure they'd be this desperate!"

"Nice to be so welcome." Chuckling, Philip waved around at them. "Hi, all." Several people stared at him blankly. "For those of you who don't know who I am, I live with the two weird artist people. I date Annie, the short-haired, brunette one."

Suddenly, everyone but the new arrivals nodded and said a communal "Ah!".

"To think I imagined we might get a normal swing..." Antoine sighed miserably. "Why can't we even get one with a single brain cell?" He, too, rose from the floor, approaching the two other new arrivals. "So you'll be our new Etcetera and Misto."

"Uh, yeah." Joseph nodded.

The petite girl beside him smiled broadly. "I'm Steffi Collimore." She said. Maybe three inches taller than Blue, the dancer had the same wiry frame and pale blue eyes, but instead of short blue hair, she had a long braid of thick brown hair hanging down to her hips. "I guess I'm the screaming kitten?"

"Pretty much." Antoine chuckled. "Well, we have one ex-tour and ex-London guy to be our new Tugger." Roberto saluted with a fingertip. "He knows Tommy and I, so I'd suggest being very afraid. Another ex is our new swing man and he's as insane as our dear Menke," The black and silver-haired dancer tried to look offended. "But we're still on the look out for some more swings, especially after losing what? Five? Six? In a month." He counted off on his fingers. "Mara's permanently gone, Edward had a nervous breakdown, Tim's on tour, Andy," The tall dancer looked innocently around. "Is Munk, Marsha is still getting over the broken wrist and Lorna is still getting over bronchitis."

"Not to mention all the main cast...Kashka leaving, Will out of action, Mal re-cast, Blue and Andy upgraded, Gil gone." Tommy put in. "Gotta say that this is a whole lot of confusing and tiring not-fun."

Andy raised a hand. "Apparently auditions have been rung up for next week."

"And I've been offered a swing position." Menke added, grinning as Antoine's eyes bugged. "I thought you'd like that."

Antoine managed to utter a whimper. "Menke...you'd be understudying everything...you'd even be down for Carb..." A blinding grin crossed the older dancer's face. "Okay, I'm shutting up about that now...Steffi and Joseph, you're both new to this theatre, correct?"

"S'right." Steffi was looking around the room with interest.

"I've played Misto before." Joseph said. He looked very uncertain about the group around him, his confident grin wavering. "Video and Broadway."

Raymond stepped a little closer to Menke and Antoine. His voice was a low rumble. "Kid, when you've been in six international productions, I'll think about being impressed that you were in the video."

"You were in six?" Menke gave the black dancer a surprised look. 

"Hon, I can still do the naming in German and French and whatever the hell that language was they made us try to do for some of the Asian tour." He grinned. "Still, nothin' like bein' a pussy in the original place."

Tommy rolled her eyes. "Ray, you're a great big pussy where ever you are anyway."

"Not to interrupt the conversation here, but we do have a lot of work to do, you guys." Antoine remarked, motioning them into the centre of the room. "We'll start with some of the bigger routines, until Blue gets back."

"Blue?" Steffi inquired. "That girl with the blue hair?"

Tommy nodded. "You'll find we're very literal people." She said. "That's why everyone just calls me Sex Goddess."

"You wish, sweetie." Raymond chuckled.

"Always, Ray." She replied with a smile.

***

"Where did you disappear off to, shorty?"

Blue didn't immediately answer her boyfriend, making her way across the floor between the dancers who had paused for a quick break. Sitting down in front of him, she slid between his knees and laid her head against his chest, pulling his arms around her body.

"Shorty? What is it?"

"I'm in trouble." She whispered. He tightened his grip on her when she spoke, her voice on the verge of tears.

"Why? What have you done?"

She nestled closer to him, rubbing his chest. "It's the first time Jamieson's seen me without a cap or anything on." He felt her breath against his skin and held her snugly against him. "He said I shouldn't have blue hair."

"Didn't he wonder why you were called Blue?"

"He didn't care...lectured me about looking professional...told me I have to change the colour back to the normal one..." Her hand rose to touch her familiar spiked hairstyle. "I don't want to change colours again...I like being Blue..."

"He can't make you change the colour, love."

She nodded, her fingers running up and down his chest. "He can't...but he can make my life hell if I don't do what he says...he is the boss..."

"One second, shorty." She nodded again. "Tommy!" From her stretches on the barre, the older dancer looked over curiously, then spotted the blue-haired figure in Andy's arms and crossed the floor, kneeling down beside the couple. "Are you in the mood for homicide?"

The oriental-looking dancer's eyes narrowed. "What did that son of a bitch do, kid?"

"Apparently he doesn't approve of Blue's hair colour."

"You what?"

"He said I have to get rid of it...but not in words like that." Tommy's hand rose, stroking through Blue's hair. The younger girl looked up at her. "I don't want to, Tommy...this is me. It's part of who I am now. Its how I became...stopped being Sara."

"He can't make you do anything, kid." Opening her arms, she let Blue move into her lap, cradling her and hugging her. "If he complains again, I'll ask him why Antoine gets to have his hair that bloody awful colour without complaint."

Blue touched Tommy's waist-length ponytail that was hanging over her right shoulder. "Maybe I should go skinhead for a while." She murmured pensively. "I wonder how the old fart would take that."

"Well, I for one, say that's a bad idea!" Andy protested. "I like your hair the way it is."

"There are other ways to protest...things that look worse than just having blue hair." Tommy remarked softly, a wicked smile on her face. She traced her fingertips from Blue's ear, to her nose stud, then down to her chest. "Remember those...things we found in Tunisia?"

The small dancer's eyes goggled. "Tommy! I couldn't wear anything like that!"

"Like...what?" Andy inquired warily, aware that anything that made Tommy grin like a Cheshire cat could only be bad.

"Chains." Tommy breathed dreamily. "All kinds of amazing chains and jewellery to join up every parts of the body..." Her eyes fluttered closed at the memory. Blue coughed. "Uh...I mean, there's this set that are like punk collars, with huge spikes on them...you wear them over your face and chest mainly. They look scary as hell on the right person, especially, if she's wearing her baby-punk black leather outfit with all the zips and studs..."

"I like that baby-punk outfit!" Blue exclaimed. "You make me sound like I don't like it."

"But not with the chest area unzipped and little chains connecting your nipple ring to your belly button ring being visible?" Blue flushed, covering her chest with one hand. "You're just to shy about showing off flesh."

"No, I'm just not a big slut."

"Tommy, how about you show up in all this scary clothing and show Jamieson that there are worse things than strange hair?" Andy suggested as the two women chuckled and exchanged embraces. "He's probably have a cardiac arrest."

"Or end up brain dead, because the blood'll go straight to his..."

"TOMMY!"

The black-haired dancer gave her roommate a sultry, vampish smile. "Trust me, sweetie, if I want to get Jamieson hot and bothered, I'll damn well do it." She murmured.

"That's what I was afraid of." Blue moaned.

***

The next morning, when they arrived for the second day of rehearsals with the new cast members, Jamieson was waiting at the door, a grim expression on his face. Tommy had expected it and sent Blue and Andy in first.

"Miss Spence."

Looking up from the sign-in form, Blue felt Andy's hand reassuringly squeeze hers. "Uh, yes, Mr. Jamieson?"

"I notice your hair is still that absurd colour."

"It's been this colour for five years, Mr. Jamieson. It's my trademark." Reaching into a rucksack on her back, she withdrew a sheaf of papers from her agent and held them out to him, hiding a smug grin. "My agent has it included as part of my contract." Sceptically, Jamieson took the leaf of papers, skimming through them. Blue held her breath, nervous. She had contacted her agent about it the night before and the woman, a close friend of both Tommy and Sylvie, had written some new terms into the small dancer's contract, e-mailing them to Blue first thing that morning.

"I still think you should show some kind of professional restrain in the way you look." He stated stiffly. "You are part of our company and thus, you should show people outwith our group that we are professional people."

Behind them the door buzzed open and Blue heard Andy choke back a snort of laughter. On the other side of the desk, Leo's eyes went wide, his mouth hanging open. Blue glanced up at the mirror on the wall opposite the door and saw Tommy sliding out of her jacket.

"It's warm in here." The older dancer drawled huskily, catching Jamieson's attention for the first time. Like Leo, his eyes seemed to double in size at the sight of Tommy wearing nothing but a strip of a leather skirt and a pattern of delicate chains that barely concealed any of her upper body.

"Miss Bennett," He asked faintly. "What is that?"

"This?" Tommy looked down, spreading her arms. "Do you like it? I thought it was a bargain and its actually quite comfortable." She jiggled her upper body with a smile. "And the chains actually hold me in place really well, see?"

"I don't think that it is really appropriate." He mumbled.

"But I've got the skirt to match it at home!" She stroked her hand down the leather one, then sighed. "It was a bit rusty around the crotch, because I forgot to dry it last time I wore it, but I was going to wear it tomorrow."

Jamieson goggled at her. "Miss Bennett!"

"You mean you don't like it?" She gave him a miserable look, convincingly filling her eyes with tears. "But it's my favourite outfit! I think it's so pretty!"

"It-it is pretty, but it's...ah...rather revealing."

"S'my body. I dont care who sees it."

"But there may be young people out there, after the show!" He protested. "We cannot allow them to be open to such...uh...lewdness."

"If your excuse it that kids might see us and be badly influenced by what we wear or what colour our hair is, you're talking bullshit." Tommy said smoothly, brushing her loose hair back from her face. She smiled. "Blue always has her hair covered so you can't claim anything there. You let her keep her hair like that on her, my and her agents wishes, or everybody gets to see a whole lot more of Tommy girl."

Jamieson's face went through a spectrum of colours, from white, to grey to red, before he huffed in indignation, thrust the sheaf of papers back into Blue's hands and storming away up the stairs. 

"Way to go, Tommy!" Andy hooted, giving her once over look.

"Nice outfit, Tom." Leo drawled.

Andy looked at him. "You think that's bad, you should see her naked." Leo looked at her speculatively, grinning.

"Don't even go there!" Tommy held up a hand. She snatched the pen and scrawled her name on the sheet of paper. "Can we just get somewhere warmer, please? My nipples are getting chaffed down here."

"Didn't need to know that." Blue chuckled, bounding over to the lift, Tommy following, grousing about the metal against her breasts.

***

"How goes?"

Joseph was sitting on the floor in the warm up room, stretched over his right leg that was extended in front of him. His chin resting on his knee, he raised his eyes to the dancer standing over him. "Uh...okay, I guess." He changed legs. "Who're you?"

"Malcolm."

"And you play?"

There was a pause, the pale blue eyes staring down at him. "Mistoffelees."

"You're my understudy? Nice to meet you, buddy."

"No, I was Mistoffelees." Malcolm replied quietly. "You took my job, 'buddy'."

Sitting up, Joseph frowned. "That can't be right." He got to his feet, shaking his ankles. "They told me they had a vacancy for a Mistoffelees coming up soon. That's why they got in touch with me."

"Well, they didn't." Malcolm gazed down at the other dancer. Joseph was barely inches over five feet tall and Malcolm was at least six inches taller than him. "I was told I was changing to play Bill Bailey, because they had someone coming in to play Misto. It was a choice of him or being fired."

"Man," A pained look crossed Joseph's youthful face. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that was what was goin' on."

A half-smile reached Malcolm's lips. "They wouldn't tell you that they were threatening to fire someone, to get you over here." He remarked. He held out a hand, which Joseph shook with an apologetic grin. 

"I'm sure you were a great Misto, and everything."

"I s'pose."

"Pity you don't get the recognition for being in the video, like I do." The blonde's smile was guileless, his blue eyes twinkling. "It was the most amazing cast to work with...the best dancers in the world."

"Yeah?"

"I was their first choice for Misto. Cool, huh?" He grinned boyishly. "Were you asked?"

Malcolm tried to keep a smile on his face, but it was a struggle. "I only joined the show five months ago, so they didn't know about me."

"Oh." Still, Joseph grinned. "You probably haven't got to my standard yet."

His own painful grin locked in place, Malcolm gritted out between clenched teeth. "Excuse me for a second."

Raymond was washing his hands at the sinks in the toilets when Malcolm stalked in, slamming the door behind him, hard. Walking up to the wall, he smiled tightly at his boyfriend, and then started smacking his head off the tiles.

"Hon," Hurrying over, Raymond hauled him back. "That might not be the best thing to do. You don't wanna damage that pretty head of yours."

Malcolm gave him a bitter look. "You never know." He muttered, his forehead a blossoming pink colour. "If I kill a few brain cells, let my hair go back to blonde and look as thick as a brick, I might actually be 'up to his standard'."

"Is this about Jo?"

"Noooooooo." Drawing out the word, giving Raymond a sarcastic look, Malcolm cocked his head, raising his brows. "What gave you that idea?"

Raymond hugged his lover gently. "Hon, ignore it. He'll be gone in a few months and until then, Alonzo ain't gonna go near that prancin' little ballerina." He pressed a fierce kiss to Malcolm's lips. "You're way better as Misto than he could ever be." He kissed him again, pressing him back against the wall. "Way hotter, as well."

"Like I couldn't tell you that, blindfolded." Malcolm growled, pulling Raymond's mouth back to his, neither of them breaking apart or looking around when the door squeaked open to let the dainty blond dancer in.

"Guys!" Josph's shrill voice protested. "Get a room."

Malcolm's slender hands, spread on Raymond's broad, bare, muscled back, moved of their own accord, the middle fingers of both hands rising to pay a derisive salute to the smaller dancer in the doorway.

"Uh...okay..." The door closed quickly.

"What did you do, hon?" Raymond panted, breaking out of the kiss to look down at Malcolm.

The black- and red-haired dancer gave him a cute smile. "A little bird or two told him that we were busy." He replied, his eyes glinting with mischief. A deep chuckle rumbled through Raymond as he met his lover's lips with his own again.

***

A topless dancer walked across the middle of the rehearsal room, massaging her breasts and muttering curses under her breath. Several male members of cast looked on with curiousity and approval.

"What's up, gorgeous?" John Marquez drawled, approaching, but making certain to stay out of arm's reach of her.

"Chain mail doesn't do much good for the nips. Six days since I wore the bloody stuff and its still chapped." Tommy reached into a rucksack on the floor, withdrawing a pot of vaseline and rubbing it liberally over her chaffed breasts.

"Need a hand to apply that?"

"Get a life, John."

He gave her a rakish grin, holding out a hand. "You know you wanna let me help, gorgeous."

"What part of get a life didn't you understand?" The tall dancer snapped, whirling around to glare at him. After a week of rehearsals before the evening shows, the stress was beginning to show on the cast members.

"C'mon, beautiful, just one little dab?" He grinned broadly, then staggered back a step in astonishment, when her hand connected with his face. The slap rang out like a pistol-crack in the room, the accoustics bringing it back ten times louder.

"Get a life." She repeated coldly, storming away.

Fingering his scarlet cheek, he watched her go. "I guess I deserved that one." He said to anyone who happened to be listening. As attention drifted, he, too, exited the room, disappearing away to his dressing room.

Several people noticed him go, including Menke and Miranda Clyde-Dunlop, who played Jellylorum. "Randa," Menke approached her, concern written on his face. "Do you know if something's up with John?"

"I'm not sure, but normally, he'd never go anywhere near that far to annoy Tommy."

"That's what I thought." Menke rubbed his chin pensively. He was going to follow, when a small, flustered-looking blond dancer hurried into the room, straight towards him. He groaned, recognising Joseph. "Morning, Jo."

"Menke, aren't rehearsals meant to be starting?"

"We're still waiting for a few people to arrive." He replied, motioning around the room at the dancers. "Everyone else is getting warmed up." 

"Malcolm and Ray are making out in the bathroom! Shouldn't they be warming up too?"

Menke massaged his temples with forefinger and thumb. "Not again." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Berto?" The black-haired dancer looked over from his position by the barre. "You mind going and breaking up Ray and Mal?"

"Again?"

"You're the biggest guy around here. If anyone can pull Ray off Goth-boy, it's you."

Grousing as he sloped out of the door, Roberto disappeared towards the toilets where the two dancers were getting...acquainted.

"You ready for your first night on Monday?" Menke turned his attention back to the small dancer, who had started re-stretching in front of him. 

"I guess so! Its not like I haven't been a cat before."

A faint grin crossed Menke's face. "You and me both." He muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing important." Menke smirked, clapping the small dancer on the back. "Finish your warm-ups and we'll get this rehearsal out the way, before this evenings show." He sighed with relief. "No rehearsals tomorrow, remember, cos we've got the two shows."

"What do I do?"

"Whatever you like, kid." Menke moved off towards the returned Raymond and Malcolm, who were looking flushed and sheepish, but smug.

***

"Has Wonder Boy gone?" Malcolm looked up at Menke, his Mistoffelees make-up as impeccable as ever.

"He wasn't in today." The taller dancer replied, adjusting his black warmers. "I told him he didn't need to come in today, because we would be too busy to rehearse with both the shows to do and everything."

"So he didn't find a brain cell in that pretty head of his and die of shock? Damn shame."

Menke raised a brow. "Still bitter about having your job taken?"

"I just can't imagine what gave you that idea, genius." Malcolm muttered under his breath, fastening the poppers of his shoulders. The taller dancer gave him a rueful smile. "What?"

"There's a worse thing than having your job taken from you, you know?"

Adjusting his warmers on his arms, Malcolm raised a brow skeptically. "Is this where you tell me that you once lost out in a role, but soething wonderful happened after it?"

"No," Menke leaned against the back of a chair behind him, looking the Goth in the eyes, his expression serious. "This is when I tell you that I almost lost the person who I love more than my own life. That is far worse than losing a job." He grinned faintly. "Almost got myself killed as well, which isn't something I'd recommend, but there is always something worse than losing a job. Just remember that there will always be another job."

"Oh."

"Oh? Is that it?" Menke pulled a pained expression onto his face. "After I bare my soul to you, all you say is 'Oh'?" He sniffed, hiding his face behind a warmer. "You've just gone and broken my heart, Mal! I thought we had something special going on!"

"Shaddup, you big loon." The smaller dancer couldn't hide a smile. "You're a weird guy, y'know, Menke."

"It has been mentioned on occasion, but I'm not the one that usually walks around looking like I walked into railings that have just been painted black." He gave the Goth a smug grin. "I don't care if it's from a film, but I still look better with stripes than you do."

"You...er...there is a spontaneous, witty retort to that...just give me some time to find it."

Licking his finger, Menke made a one-up sign and prowled off towards the main area, a wide grin on his face. Nearly five minutes passed before Malcolm's brow smoothed out and he ran after the taller dancer. 

"I found it!" He yelled. "Menke! I have my witty come-back!"

"Oh yeah?" Menke's head poked out of a dressing room, his eyes sparkling.

Malcolm drew a deep breath, his expression determined, and pointed at him. "Poot!" 

Menke stared at him in disbelief, then, slow but surely, a grin broke onto the big dancer's face and he started to laugh. "No matter what they say about you, Mal," He clapped the Goth on the shoulder. "You're a very funny guy."

Looping his arm through Menke's, he inclined his head to look at the bigger dancer. "Shall we dance?" He asked in a prim voice.

"Are ye askin'?" Menke snickered, recalling the last time he had used words similar to those: his first date with his wife, so many months before.

"Ah'm askin', mah big stripy luv!"

"Then Ah'm dancin', mah wee fuzzy luv!"

Behind them, as they skipped towards the stairs, singing a corrupted version of a classic Disney song, Tommy and Raymond exchanged glances. "I'm pretty sure that we don't want to know what just happened." She said.

"Agreed." Raymond nodded.

"At least I'm not dating one of them." She added with a sly grin at him.

Raymond raised a brow. "Tommy, hon, you saw nothin'. We saw nothin'. Nothin' happened here and everythin' is normal and good."

"Okay!" Looping her arm through his, she dragged him along as she skipped and started to sing as well. "Hi-ho, hi-ho, its on the stage we go! We'll grab that prick, hit him with a brick! Hi-ho! Hi-ho, hi-ho, hi-ho!"

Raymond whimpered. "I wanna go home."

Tommy just laughed.

***

"Okay, what's going on here?"

The intermission had arrived during the matinee and several people were more than a fraction surprised to find John Marquez – wigless – sitting in the social space, when he should be donning his Growltiger garb.

More surprising was the fact that he had an open bottle of whisky in his hands and tears pouring down his face. 

"Okay, old man," Squeezing past her companions, Tommy slinked over to him and sat down on his lap, taking the bottle from his hands and looping his arms around her. "You get to have a fondle of the Tommy-girl." She lifted his face with her fingertips. "You gonna tell me what's up?"

"Apart from the obvious?" He tried to smile, but it didn't reach his lips and Tommy sighed, gently embracing him as he buried his face in her shoulder, sobbing. "Sorry, Tom," He choked softly. "They had to call in the relief…I can't go back on."

"Why not, hon?"

"One, I'm pissed as a skunk." He gave her a faint smile. "Two, my old mum…" A choking sob escaped him and he hugged her tightly. "She had a stroke last night…they said she was gonna be okay…she wasn't…they just called…"

"Oh Christ…" Pressing kisses to his brow, Tommy hugged him tightly. "John, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

His arms around the red-garbed dancer, he gave her a sorrowful smile, his head resting against her fuzzy shoulder. "She was old, Tom. Maybe she won't be hurting anymore… and she'll be back with dad."

"That's the nice way to look at it, hon." She whispered, stroking her fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. "What're you gonna do?"

He shrugged, closing his eyes, pulling her a little closer to his body. "I'm gonna get changed and my partner should be here in a few minutes." Tommy nodded, her chin resting on the top of his head. "We'll go to the hospital from there."

"I'm stayin' with you until I know there's someone else to look after you, hon."

Reaching up, he brought her mouth down lightly to his and touched a chaste kiss to her lips. "Thank you, Tom." Nestling against her, he remained there, her body pressed against his until the door opened allowing a non-crew member in.

"Jonny?" The huge man standing there looked like he could be a professional rugby player. John steered Tommy from his lap and rose, the big man crossing the floor and hugging him tightly against the barrel-like chest. "Love, I'm sorry."

John nodded, receiving a tender kiss from the immense man, then pressed against the wide chest again, his eyes closed. "Tommy," He murmured, looking at her from beneath hooded lids. "I never told you I was gay, did I?"

Seeing Tommy being gobsmacked was one of those occasions that – again – Andy wished he took a camera to work with him.


	13. The Cast - Part 13 - Most Everyone Is Ma...

"Would you take a look at that!"

Peering over her boyfriend's arm at the scribbled-on sign-in sheet, Blue's eyes went wide with astonishment. "Uh..." She counted down the list with clear confusion and consternation. "I know rehearsals were tough, but isn't this a bit ridiculous?"

"I think the right words for this are we are buggered."

"Do you think they'd cancel the show?" She re-read the list, grimacing as she mentally checked off the characters. "As far as I can tell, we're missing a Griz, a Deut, a Tugger, a Jenny, a Mungo, a Jelly, a Vic and a Victoria."

Andy looked down at her. "And we have how many swings?"

"Uh...three."

"We're up the creek." He pronounced. "I suppose we should go up and see if our motivational speaker of the Devil's resemblance is about yet." He pulled a face. "Either we're all gonna have to go home, or he's going to clone us before show-time."

Across the desk, Leo grinned at the couple. "He was down here earlier, calling every single person on the list back to make sure they couldn't come in."

"And they couldn't?"

"Jonny has a sprained ankle, Helen is on holiday, Roberto lost his voice, Caroline was at the doctors," He ticked them off on his fingers. "Gil isn't coming back any time soon and Geeta claimed something about a very heavy period and not working well with a white costume."

Blue winced sympathetically. "Don't envy that excuse. It's bad enough in a colourful unitard. I remember when Cassie had seepage." A nauseous look crossed her face. "And I really didn't need to remember that."

"C'mon, shorty," Andy chuckled, looping an arm around her. "I suppose we better go up and see what they're going to do with this whole mess."

***

"But if you play him, then I play her and she plays my role..."

A pile of rainbow-coloured counters had been gathered, each one marked with the surviving actors and actresses initials. A board had been set up on the floor, with all the main character names written on it.

"Well, I can't play anyone else." Raymond laid his counter – a large pink one – on the printed word 'Alonzo' and smiled around. "That's me taken care of."

"Bloody jammy poofter." Tommy muttered under her breath, retrieving her crimson chip from the Bombalurina marker and moving it to the Grizabella marker.

"Which one?" John Marquez leaned over her with a faint smile, placing his striped chip on the Gus/Bustopher/Growltiger marker. He gave her rear a firm squeeze as he pulled back, receiving a startled look from her. "Oh, c'mon, Tom, surely you didn't think you're the only gay person in the cast to tease the gender you're not interested in."

"But no one knew!"

"Uh..." Blue looked away.

Andy nodded. "What she said..."

"You mean all of you knew John-boy was hiding the salami with another guy and no one bothered to tell me?"

Dropping a kiss on her lips, he chuckled. "It was worth it to see the look on your face, Tommy, darling." He cooed, his eyes glinting with mischief. "The others thought you knew I was bluffing, which is why they never told you."

"Yeah, Tom. We thought you realised on the first day." Blue added, placing a blue chip on the Demeter tab, the frowning and picking it up again. "You've never failed to recognise a gay guy before. I mean, even I knew it."

Tommy managed to utter a whimper. "I must be losing my touch."

"Ya think?" Malcolm sniggered, looking hopefully to the 'Mistoffelees' label. His face fell when he saw a chip with the initials 'JB' already sitting on it. "Crap." His eyes scanned the board, finding Bill Bailey free. A black and white chip was placed there.

"Whose gonna play the Tugger?" Jordan demanded. He was flipping a small disk of green up and down with his thumb. "In that case..." Leaning forward, he plopped his chip down on the name of 'Tugger'. "Norman never took a day off, so I want to get a chance to play him."

Joely gave him a curious look. "Have you actually rehearsed that role?"

"I was the understudy for months, Jo. How much attention have you been paying?" He grinned boyishly, an odd expression when combined with his facial tattoo. "Okay..." He scanned the board. "Whose gonna be Bomba, since Tommy's Griz?"

"That would be me." Geeta's slim arm appeared over the head of Jordan, placing a pure white counter on the Bombalurina tag. "What?"

"I thought you were off." Blue remarked.

"So did I, but Jamieson phoned and begged." The Asian dancer smirked. "I'm almost positive that he was on his knees and if I play the red kitty, I'll feel more secure about not...uh...well, you know what I mean."

"That still leaves us short of a Vicki. Who do we have that can be put in that role?"

"Well, I can play her, if we really need her." Rachel offered. "I'd rather not, though, because all those lifts and everything..."

"I could do that, then." Georgina put in. "Electra does bugger all and I am listed as one of the female kitten understudies."

Taking the girl's chip, Jordan placed it on the Victoria space. "Tony, you here?"

"Present."

"So we don't need an Admetus." Tony's chip was added to 'Admetus'. "Andy?"

"Munk, present and correct."

"Caroline?"

Blue piped in. "She's ill."

"Crap. We're a Jennyanydots down..." He looked up at the group. "Do we have anyone who can play Jennyanydots?"

"I can." Jenni said. "But I'm Rumpleteaser as well...do we have anyone who could play Rumple, if I went on as Jenny?"

Blue shrugged. "I could do that, if there's someone else who can understudy Dem."

Joely raised a hand. "I've played Bomba and I learned the Demeter lines in case of emergency, after the whole mess with Mara." On his knees at the board, Jordan moved several chips around, then nodded. "So now, we have no Cassie, but she doesn't do much anyway...okay, next in line. Mungojerrie. Nicky, do you...?"

"I'm the singing-free twin." The Johnson shrugged. "I can do the routine, but I'd sing totally off-key and I don't think that would go down well."

"God, no." A whimper came from next to Raymond. "You wouldn't be that evil."

Raymond gave his lover and look, then looked over at Jordan. "Malcolm is down as a Mungojerrie understudy, Jor." He replied, hugging the smaller dancer against his side. "His chips on Bill B now." The whimper increased in volume. "Sorry, hon, it had to be done."

"I hate my life." 

"I know, sweets."

"What have we missed?" A voice called from the doorway, all eyes whipping around to Menke, who was standing there with Phil.

"Just the reassigning of the whole show, Menke." Andy replied with a rye grin. "Tell, me, can you play Old Deuteronomy?"

Green eyes went wide. "Oh dear..." Phil murmured. "It's that bad, is it?"

"Mal is playing Mungojerrie."

Menke nodded sagely. "It is THAT bad."

"Trust our girls to come the one night we're in the stupidest roles possible." Phil mumbled morosely. "I was hoping to play a hunk tonight and now, I'll probably be assigned Bill Bailey or something annoying and kitteny."

Jordan looked down at the spaces on the board. "Don't worry about it, Phil." He said with a wicked grin. "I know exactly who you can play and he's definitely not a kitten." Phil bent to look over the older dancer's shoulder and groaned.

"I suppose I walked into that." He murmured.

"What about me?" Menke inquired. "Anyone left for the best Munk in the world?"

"Allow me," Tommy snatched a chip from Jordan and bent over to place it on one of the vacancies, a mischievous smirk on her lips. Menke raised a brow, then peered down at the name on the board.

He turned to Tommy. "You're going to regret that, you know."

"My intention exactly." She playfully ran her hand across his chest.

"Tommy," He intoned gravely. "Did I tell you I was gay?"

Several of the others burst into shouts of laughter and Menke grinned engagingly at her, as Tommy crossed her arms and scowled at him. It would have looked terrifying, but for the laughter in her eyes.

***

"Helen! Oh, good, I thought I wouldn't find you in time!"

The actress' voice rang down the phone. "Mr. Jamieson?"

"Yes, yes…" Impatiently waving his hand, despite the futility of gestures, the manager drew a shaking breath. "My dear, we're rather short on cast members and I was wondering if there is any chance you would be able to come in for the show tonight?"

"Tonight? As in, two hours away?"

"Yes!"

Helen Marsden chuckled softly. "Well, the flight alone would take eight hours, so as much as I'd love to help, I'm afraid you'll just have to cope without me, darling. Jamaica is just too beautiful at this time of year." 

The phone went dead and Jamieson released a howl of fury and panic. "Nooooooooooooooo!" He snatched up the list of numbers, calling the other offices. "Helen can't make it back. We're going to have to cancel the performance and refund everyone!"

"Is there no way you can...?"

"There are twenty-five characters in the full cast and we currently have a cast of twenty people present. There's no way we can adapt so many to other roles." A pulse was flickering in Jamieson's temple, his hair wild around his face, his cheeks crimson.

A knock at the door caused Jamieson to shriek "COME IN!" in a none-to-polite manner.

"Evening, sir." Jordan smiled broadly and stepped into the room, a sheet of paper held in his hands. "Er...you're looking a bit stressed, if you don't mind me saying so." On the orders of the cast, bar Joseph, he was looking forward to winding up the manager.

"Well, forgive me if I don't find the idea of canceling a show relaxing!"

"Canceling the show?" The dancer tried to look horrified.

"In case you haven't noticed, half the bloody cast are missing!"

"And?"

"And?" What the hell do you mean 'and?'? Don't you realise what this means? We don't have enough cast members to put the show on." Jamieson motioned to the door. "Would you mind leaving me to sort out how I'm going to deal with this?"

Jordan's smug grin spread across his face. "Actually, I think you might find you're mistaken."

"I beg your pardon?"

"But if you're so determined to cancel the show, I suppose I wouldn't mind a day off..."

Jamieson rapidly rounded the desk, frantically, blocking the door. "What exactly did you mean, Mr. Pryce?" He demanded, his voice quavering with nerves, his eyes bulging. "What am I mistaken about?"

"On this sheet of paper," Jordan waved it in front of Jamieson's face. "We have a cast list, with everyone moved into roles they can play. Only three characters are missing from the line-up and none of them are particularly important, but," He turned to open the door. "I'm sure you're not interested."

"Wait! Let me see that!" Jamieson snatched the sheet, hurrying back to his desk and reading rapidly through the list. Slowly, an unsteady grin slid onto his face. "Who came up with this casting?" He demanded.

"We did." Jordan replied.

"We?"

"The cast." He shrugged. "Since we figured one of the top people would remember who had rehearsed what, we thought we might as well do something about it."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

Jordan gave him a cynical look. "We didn't do it for you." He said. "We did it for our family and friends in the audience."

"But you will go on?"

"Well, yeah." He smiled tightly. "Now, if you would excuse me 'sir', I do have to go and join the warm-ups with everyone else."

***

"So this is where Menke works? Can't say I'm impressed?" William Pike looked around at the building. "As if prancing around like a great poof isn't bad enough..."

Demi laughed softly. "That's my husband you're talking about, Billy." She said with a tone of mock-chastisement. She rubbed the slight swell of her belly, wondering if she should tell her friends her news yet. No, she decided, it would be more fun afterwards. "C'mon. We're front-rowing it."

Ascending the escalator towards the upper levels, Demi looked back at Rina, who was leaning on a walking stick on one side and Billy on the other. She had a broad smile on her face and was looking around with misty reminiscence.

"You okay, Rina?" Annie asked from behind the couple. Marie was the step behind her, cradling her own rucksack – containing screeds of art.

"Yeah." The red head called back, tossing her braid over her shoulder. "I'm just remembering what it used to be like…" A quiet chuckle escaped her, only to be replaced by a wince of pain. "Did I mention how much I hate having lame legs?"

"No worries, luv." Billy said fondly, bending and scooping her up against his chest, her stick finding its way into Annie's hands. "Let's get you to the top of the stairs and get a drink, before the show starts."

They only stopped to buy one of the more recent programmes and to look at the cast list for the day. Both Annie and Demi squealed with laughter, grabbing each other's arms and pointing at their significant other's names.

"Whatsit?" Rina demanded, wriggling in her boyfriend's arms. "Whosit and whatsit?"

"Phil and Menke are both on. Phil's being Coricopat." Annie burst into another fit of giggles, while Demi explained. She had her hand to her nose, her eyes dancing. "They're making Menke play Victor!" 

Rina's jaw sagged. "Menke?" She repeated, more for her own benefit. "Playing Victor? You mean the dumbest, stupidest kitten in the world? The kitten who was dropped on his head at birth and stayed that way?"

"Demi!" Marie grabbed her friend's wrist. "Where are we sitting?"

"A 7 to 11, I think."

"Oh God…" Marie gasped, breaking into a fit of giggles. Her dark-haired friend gave her a curious look, then her eyes went wide and she started to laugh as well.

Demi looked from one to the other, bewildered. "What?"

Looking at the blonde, Annie was struggling to keep a straight face. "That's where our dearest darling Victor spends most of his time, you know." She said, the wide, impish grin breaking onto her features. 

"Oh, dear Lord." Demi whimpered. "I really don't want to be peeing my pants with laughter when I'm sitting in the front row…"

"I'm guessin' that Menke playin' this guy is a bad thing?" Billy remarked to Rina, only to receive a chorus of assent from the three other women, who immediately cracked up, laughing again. "And that would be a yes."

***

"How naughty is Mungojerrie?"

"In what sense?"

"Would Misto...er...accidentally fall on his arse, if Mungojerrie happened to be standing behind him and kicked him in the back of the knee." Malcolm looked at Blue, who was watching him apply his make-up. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."

"Of course." Blue grinned. Already in her full make-up, she and Malcolm had discussed their plans for the routine they had to perform together. "Mungojerrie can pretty much get away with anything this evening. Hell, I think Tugger could hump Munk's leg and they'd get away with it. You heard how desperate Jamieson was."

Malcolm nodded pensively. "Always a valid point." He murmured, holding out the narrow brush to her. "I want you to make me identical to you." Blue raised a brow. "Well, in as close a way as possible without de-knackering me."

"You trust me to do your make-up?"

"I never got round to studying the Mungojerrie chart." He gave her a half-grin. "I never thought 

that I'd actually have to play him."

"Ah, well. It's not too hard." Hopping up to sit on his make-up desk, she claimed the pots of black, red and tangerine. "At least you got the top half and bottom halves of your face the right way around. I screwed that up the first time I did Rumple."

Malcolm chuckled, freezing as she started to carefully paint around his eyes, her tongue poking out in concentration. Occasionally checking her reflection in the mirror, she finished the eyes and cheek-stripes, then handed him the pot.

"What?"

"There's no way I'm putting lip-liner on any guy." She pulled a face. "Some things are even beyond my capabilities."

Malcolm grinned, claiming the brush. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. All that was missing was his cat-nose and the black markings on his upper-lip, which he added with deft familiarity, then stared at himself. 

As much as he hated to admit it, he suited the colourful pattern.

"How are the gruesome twosome?" Tommy's head poked around the door, both Malcolm and Blue looking towards her in unison. "Eesh! Guys! Enough with the in sync thing. You're not playing Cori and Tanto, remember!"

Slapping a huge powderpuff against Malcolm's face, Blue cracked up in a hysterical bout of giggles at the expression on the Goth dancer's face, as he was liberally doused with a thick layer of white powder. 

"All he needs now are the black lines everywhere and he'll be ready for the best Crow conventions in the country!" She squealed in surprise when he grabbed her round the waist and hauled her off the desktop.

"Oi'm gonna teach yer a lesson!" He squashed her in a tight hug. "An' yer never gonna get away from me!"

"Oh God!" Blue shrieked hysterically, tears of laughter rolling down her cheeks. "Someone help me! Mungojerrie's possessed Malcolm! He's grinning! Someone, quick! Kill it! Kill it! Use a herring!"

"Do we want to know what's going on in there?" Menke's voice said outside of the room.

"Apparently Malcolm's channeled his inner kitten and it's attacking Blue." Tommy replied casually, smoothing her unitard down over her hips. Her tail was hung over her shoulder, a cigarette in her hand.

In Victor-guise, Menke peered into the room to see Blue and Malcolm exchange a giggle-filled look. "You know," He remarked quietly. "Up until this day, Kashka was the scariest thing I saw in this theatre."

"Why this day?"

Menke merely pointed.

Tommy gaped.

Malcolm and Blue finished painting huge smiley faces on each other's bellies, then shot speculative looks in Tommy's direction. The tall dancer had never moved so fast as she did at that moment.

***

"Photos!"

"Damn! You brought it." With a great show of reluctance, Rachel – as Jellylorum – struck a pose with her husband, in his half-Tugger regalia. Andy snapped a rapid photo, then darted off in the direction he had seen Phil heading.

"Group hug!" He bellowed, barreling into the common area. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser both immediately yelped in protest and astonishment as they were both hauled off the ground by a grinning Alonzo.

Antoine looked at the camera. "You're weird, Andy." He remarked, only for the flash to dazzle him, leaving him blinking spots out his eyes. By the time he cleared them, he had an armful of Geeta as Bombalurina and another flash exploded.

"Pretty!" Andy cooed, adopting a blank expression and puckering his lips.

"Why is he taking all the photos anyway?" Antoine asked Blue, who – between posing for her boyfriend – was finishing tying her tail on.

"Souvenirs." She smiled. "Getting us in costumes we wouldn't normally be seen in. He want a huge group photos as the piece de resistance."

"But I'm in my usual costume."

The small dancer grinned up at him. "You, Ray, Nicky, Andy, Joseph, John, Tony, Rhiannon and Steffi are all that remains of sanity." She glanced around at people emerging from dressing rooms, pointing and laughing at each other. "The rest of us find this too amusing for words."

Antoine looked around. "So let me try and work this out. Tugger and Jellylorum are married tonight, while Alonzo and Mungojerrie are dating and Rumpleteaser and Munkustrap are practically living together."

"Pretty much." Blue agreed with a chuckle. A squeal escaped her as Andy flounced over and flashed the camera in her face. "Andy!"

"Picture!"

"That's what I figured." Looking around, she spotted Tommy sitting near one of the coffee tables, reading, a wicked grin crossing her face. "Andy, love, do you want a...er...very unique picture of Grizabella and Rumpleteaser having a bonding moment?"

"Hon, the fans would kill you if they saw that." Raymond chuckled, as Blue bounced behind the seated Tommy, leaning over her shoulder and dropping a fond kiss on her lips. 

In a swift blur, Tommy brought the small dancer over the back of her chair and into her lap and reciprocated with more...interesting intentions. "How about that?" She panted, giving the camera a sultry look, her hands hidden near interesting parts of the smaller dancer's anatomy.

"I can't let them outdo us!" Malcolm protested, finally daring to appear from within his dressing room. Everyone turned and stared at him in sheer astonishment, not just because of the huge grin on the Goth's face.

"You come in colour! I always thought you were just a black and white!"

Malcolm grinned awkwardly, hurrying over towards Raymond. "This is my black and white, while I'm stuck in this costume. You want a controversial fan picture?" Reaching up, he yanked Raymond's mouth down to his, one hand grabbing his lover's crotch. The look of wide-eyed astonishment on the big dancer's face was caught in a flash to go down in immortality.

"Omigod!" Blue giggled dementedly. "Mal! We shouldn't have let you in that costume! You're getting naughty!"

Releasing his lover's...parts, he licked the inside of his own cheek, the wide, cocky half-grin still in place. "I told you that I shouldn't play Mungojerrie." He reminded them, darting over to where Blue was sitting. "The costume makes ya do the crazy!" Grabbing her up in his arms, like a child with a favourite ragdoll, he hugged her tightly. "Mungo Rumple pic!"

"Mal! Breathe! Can't!" Dropped rapidly, she fell on her rear and looked up at the laughing Tommy hopelessly. "I think we're going to regret this, you know."

"Oooooooooo!"

"Oh no..."

"S'a tail!" Andy felt something yank at his tail. "T'moved!" Slowly turning, nervous about what he was about to see, he found large green eyes staring up at him with an expression of dumb curiousity and a huge grin. "Ella!"

"Menke?"

"S'Victor!" He rolled onto his back, sticking his legs in the air. "Dats a foot!" He pointed at the end of his limb, then started to chuckle at the baffled looks around him. "Well, I was told Victor was completely brain-dead."

Tommy buried her face in her hands. "Oh dear." Was all she said until the call of places went up and Andy finished his rolls of film, with strange and terrifying group shots that would put off any fan of the show.

***

Sitting by one of the pipes, near the ramp at A7, the seating had been arranged as Annie at the ramp, with Maria next to her, then Demi, followed by Rina and Billy. The Overture had just finished and the stage stopped moving.

On the far side of the stage, Joely was slinking out as a strangely Cassandra-like Demeter, taller than Blue and almost as tall as Tommy. A thump from the pipe in front of Demi caught their attention, as a ball of paper bounced out of the pipe.

A warmered arm shot out and retrieved it, a timid little face peeking around the scrap of cloth hanging over the pipe. Demi was hard-pressed not to burst out laughing. With the ball in his mouth, Menke peered up at her, looking thoroughly confused, his expression inquiring. "What are these people doing outside my pipe?"

However, he still swung up onto the stage on cue, dropping his ball of paper in Demi's lap. He cocked his head at her expectantly and she raised a brow, opening the paper slowly and smoothing it out.

It read 'Georgina or Tantomile? Love you.'

Ignoring the curious looks from either side, she turned the paper to him and pointed to Georgina with a nod. He cocked his head with a blank look, then seemed to catch on and grinned widely down at them.

They simply cracked up.

Reaching over, Maria touched his hand. Menke blinked at her, then lifted his hand and examined it curiously. Turning both his hand and face back to them at the same time, he tilted his head and shook the paw. It did nothing. He shook it again, then it seemed to react and he offered it to them.

Billy was staring at Menke in sheer astonishment, as if unable to believe that it was the same normal man he had known when they were in hospital together and outside work. Crawling along the front of the his body bobbing up and down, his rear waving in the air, he halted directly in front of Billy and stared dumbly down at him.

Shifting awkwardly, Billy tried to stare back at him, but it seemed to him that the green eyes had some kind of force behind them that made him look away. When he did, Menke did a giddy victory spin, then bobbed back to his place.

Other members of the cast were appearing on the stage now and 'Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats' had begun. 

Annie felt something tap her on the head and looked up to see Phil staring out blindly at the stage. A faint flicker of his lip made her aware that he knew she was looking at him. His buttocks flexed, making her grin, then he ran onstage with Marsha.

The next person to catch her attention as a multi-coloured feline that was crawling rapidly up the ramp beside her. She wouldn't have initially looked at him, but when he bent his wig and poked the prickly mass right into her ear, she couldn't help but notice.

Rubbing her ear, she turned to yell at Jonny, only to find Malcolm grinning from ear to ear at her, his blue eyes dancing. Her jaw sagged and she managed to nudge Maria, who also blinked in astonishment at the sight of the little Goth.

"Is that...?" Demi murmured. Annie and Maria nodded in unison, gawping at him.

Malcolm stuck his tongue out, then darted onto the stage to bump into Nicky, who had just scrambled up from another pipe. Sniffing at each other curiously, they gradually got closer to each other, until their noses bumped and they both leapt back, with a look that said 'Ick!' on their faces. 

But, they still went back and did it all over again, almost missing their lines in the frenzy of sniffing that was on going.

By the time the full cast made it on stage, the four women in the front row were pointing at different characters who were hamming it up all over the stage and breaking into fits of giggles every few minutes.

***

During 'Jennyanydots', things went completely insane, with everyone and their mother forced to join in the routine. Of course, Victor seemed to have the insane talent for ending up facing the wrong way during every part of the routine, being corrected by either Jennyanydots or the chuckling Munkustrap.

His expression of delight when he was turned the right way made anyone who noticed him crack up entirely. Every time he was placed in the right place, the grin on his face said 'Wow! Look at me! I did it! How cool!'.

Every time that happened, he'd nudge his neighour, as if to say "Look at me! I'm in the right place! Aren't I clever?", but usually end up getting a cynical or confused look from the neighbour who had been in the right place anyway.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser happily had mini-fork battles, prodding at each other and 

giggling dementedly whenever they were caught out. Possibly the naughtiest Mungojerrie to grace the London stage, he introduced his fork to Mistoffelees' derriere on more than one occasion, only to be hauled back by either Alonzo or Skimbleshanks.

By then end of the routine, things seemed to be progressing normally, despite the annoyed glares that Rumpleteaser was shooting darkly in the direction of Munkustrap, who was snuggling next to Demeter.

A howl of "Whooooooooooooooooooooohoooooooooooooo!" made every single character freeze in a way that was – by no means – rehearsed. Several exchanged stunned glances, as the hatch at the back of the stage was flung open and Tugger exploded out.

Even the normal cry of 'Tugger!' didn't sound, as everyone stared up at him in blatant shock and amazement. Polishing his claws on his vest, he nodded approvingly, then started to sing, which made several cast members' jaws drop.

Strutting down from the car, his voice carried as much resonance as Roberto, a broad and thoroughly sexual grin on his face as he surveyed his surroundings at the Queens who were willing to jump him in that heartbeat.

"Jeez! What's with these swingers?" Rumpleteaser hissed in the direction of Mungojerrie. "Is there something in the bloody water that makes 'em crazy?"

He flashed her a broad grin, then rapidly yanked her tail and leapt clean over her shoulders to jog towards the smirking Tugger, who immediately high-fived him, his eyes dancing. The little dancer stared after them, then lunged forward for a piece of the action.

Munkustrap seemed thoroughly frustrated by this cockier-than-usual Tugger, chasing him around the stage in a vain attempt to make him behave, while Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser danced together in the background, butt bumping as an improvised routine.

Flirting cheekily with Bombalurina, he sniffed his way up her arm, reaching her armpit then pulling a face, before shoving her away with a startled and disgusted look on his face and an emphatic 'No!' as his statement.

The expression on the fallen Bombalurina's face couldn't match that of Tommy's version, but it didn't stop a shrill giggle escaping Rumpleteaser, who was bouncing crazily around behind the chuckling Tugger.

Reaching the climax of the routine, Tugger seemed surprised to find that Rumpleteaser had taken Electra's place, receiving a coy look from the striped kitten. His brow rose and his grin got a little wider. 

Suddenly, Etcetera was no longer Tugger's favourite kitten, as Rumpleteaser started spinning in mad circles on her knees and squealing like a teeny-bopper-on-helium, taking the other kitten's only part, receiving a surprised look from her.

Clapping a hand down on Rumpleteaser's head, Tugger bent down and dropped a kiss on her nose. The striped kitten went rigid, eyes wide, staring at him mutely. Tugger grinned, tapping the centre of her forehead with his fingertip and she keeled over backwards.

Blowing the tip of his finger, he holstered his finger-pistol and looked around. "Cute," He murmured, then finished with a flourish. "About it!"

Of course, the end of his piece meant it was time for Grizabella to make her entrance and she tottered in from the sidelines, slumping down on the stage – strangely close to a group of five, in the front row, which no one could understand – and lowering her head.

***

"Hoi! Give 'em back!"

Malcolm gave Blue and innocent look. "You mean I don't wear the stockings?" He received a cuff around the ear of his wig and sighed. "All right, all right." Peeling off the stockings, he handed them back to her and reached for his fuzzy-rimmed socks.

Sitting down to quickly pull on the extra parts of her costume, the little dancer look over at him curiously. "Looking forward to our big number?"

"Like the morning in the bathroom after three vindaloos and a con carne." He tugged the vest over his head. "I think I'm going to forget my lines, fall on my arse, trip over the sacks, break my neck, or if I'm feeling especially good, all four."

"Confidence. I like that." Getting to her feet and pinging her suspenders, Blue checked herself over. "Well, I'm ready."

"And I'm going to puke."

Bounding behind him, she rubbed his tense shoulders comfortingly. "You're...no, we're going to do great and then, we're going to kick lil, Mericano Misto-man's arse in the popularity and cheer-volume." 

"You think?"

"We've got Annie, Maria and company in the front row, Mal. Think about it."

"You know," Standing up and giving his vest another tug, he flashed a grin down at her. "Oi fink yer roight!"

"'Ows about we go an' show dem wot we's made of, Jerrie?"

"Oi'd be 'onoured, Teasah!" Handing her a sack, he gave her a boost up onto the narrow ledge where she would be starting out and scrambled quickly up behind her. "Ready or not, here we come." He muttered.

A demented giggle rang out in the silence.

Several people in the audience echoed it, unable to resist.

"Sh!" Another voice hissed, as two figures appeared over the top of the car, peering around suspiciously. Sliding down the car, Mungojerrie snuck forward warily, then jumped in fright as another hysterical giggle rang out, Rumpleteaser doubled over her sack.

As soon as Mungojerrie whipped around to look at her, she froze, her expression one of wary innocence. If she had said something, it would have been along the lines of "Did you 'ear someone gigglin'?"

"Sh!" He repeated, both of them tossing their sacks to each other simultaneously, then looking down as they caught one another's sack. Exchanging glances, they shucked the sacks towards the tyre as Mungojerrie seemed to become aware of the audience.

Slowly pivoting, he gave them a grin. "Mungojerrie," He began.

"And Rumpleteasah!" The tiny female dancer charged forward, smacking squarely into his back, knocking him forward a step and peeking under one of his arms. "We's a notorious couple of cats!"

With exchanges of fond grins and hugs frequently through the routine, Blue could see that Malcolm was starting to relax as the song went on, hamming up even more with every minute that passed.

Acting like naughty siblings, Mungojerrie seemed to have made it his priority to protect Rumpleteaser, except when he got in trouble. In those incidences, he blamed her with a conspicuously pointed finger and an innocent wandering look elsewhere.

By the time they reached the end of the routine, the audience was laughing out loud at their combination of innocent looks and cheeky antics. Both cartwheeling to the edge of the stage, the pair exchanged looks.

It had be discussed, the chances of them actually doing the double-cartwheel. However, they had tried it once and it had been far too hard to retain their balance, with almost a foot of height difference between the two.

Instead, they had settled for something that – if done properly – could look equally impressive.

Side-by-side, they launched themselves into a rapid run of back-flips across the stage, in a pattern of two-hand, one right hand, one left hand, two hands, no hands and land. Landing simultaneously, they both turned to the front of the stage, Blue jumping up and Malcolm catching her on his shoulder, her feet resting on his bent right leg, both grinning.

Hoots and cheers sounded from around them, so loud and lingering that the conductor seemed to choose to delay the restarting of the music. And it was in that moment that a figure waving in the centre front row caught Malcolm's attention.

Linda, wired up to a portable drip and wrapped securely in snug clothing, grinned widely at him, clapping furiously. Almost dropping Blue, her twin stared at her, depositing the smaller dancer as the music started up again.

It was only a miracle that got him through the run around the auditorium and up onto the car beside Blue. His legs were suddenly shaking as he hunted his sister's frail face out in the audience again, Andy starting to sing the opening of Old Deuteronomy.

Smiling at him, Linda gave him the thumbs up. When she received a happy grin from her brother, she returned it, blowing a kiss at him. 

***

With the Deuteronomy understudy in place on the tyre, Andy started the lead-in to 'The Pekes and the Pollicles', sending various characters scattering around different parts of the set to get their 'Pollie' costumes on.

Looking up expectantly, Annie grinned as Malcolm literally bounced up the ramp beside her and towards the middle of the stage, as if he had springs in the soles of his feet. She looked sidelong as another pollicle dragged himself up the ramp, a look of shame, depression and disbelief on his stoic features.

His arms dangling nearly down to the floor, Phil heaved a huge sigh as he looked mournfully down at his girlfriend. "Look at me." He mouthed at her, shaking his head heavily from side to side. "I'm a poll."

The artist and her companions couldn't help laughing as Victor barreled straight into the back of Coricopat, Menke grinning from ear-to-ear until Phil slowly turned around and glare at him through narrowed eyes. Menke's face fell, his lower lip trembling. 

Annie reached up and scratched his leg, which meant the pout receded a little. Phil turned away again, with the dignified calm of the spooky feline, at which second, Menke blew a loud raspberry at the back of his head.

Phil chose to ignore him, but almost grinned none-the-less.

Carrying on through the routine, there were only a few minor slip-ups in the final two ensemble numbers, especially with some confusion during 'The Jellicle Ball', thanks to the vast reassignment of so many characters.

As Tommy staggered on for her second major scene, the cast scattered around her, then fled, but not before Menke had been able to scratch her. Limping hopelessly towards whatever felines were left, Tommy reached out imploringly, desperately, tears glittering in her eyes.

Hiding out in the wings, Blue watched as the stunning dancer moved gracefully through the dance-steps. She almost finished each, only to fail on every one, falling heavily on one knee and one hand, clutching her ribs as if in severe pain.

Raising her face to the blue-wash spotlight, tears raining down her cheeks, she gave up the struggle to dance and started to sing softly. "Silence, not a sound from the pavement..." She reached absently towards the spotlight. "Has the moon lost her mem'ry?" She pulled her hand back and bowed her head. "She is smiling alone."

Blue felt her throat constrict, tears stinging her eyes.

"In the lamplight the withered leaves collect at my feet..." Her fingers trailed along the surface of the stage, a dreamy look crossing her tear-stained face. "And the wind," She closed her eyes, as if hit by an unseen breeze. "Begins to moan."

Stumbling to her feet, she tottered across the stage. "Every street lamp," She reached out to different lights around the stage, each time recoiling. "Seems to beat a fatalistic warning. Someone mutters," She turned in the direction of an unheard voice, then looked away. "And a streetlamp gutters and soon..."She paused, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. "It will be morning..."

Blue felt warm arms around her waist and looked up to find Andy standing there. Raymond and Malcolm, both of whom looked incredibly tearful, flanked him. She squeezed his hands in hers and smiled faintly.

"Mem'ry," Her voice sank to a sorrowful breath. "All alone in the moonlight. I can smile at the old days..." She stumbled on 'old' with what sounded like a sob. Raising her fingers to her face, she sang softly. "I was beautiful then." A faint smile crossed her lips. "I remember the time I knew what happiness was..." She looked over her shoulder towards the spotlight. "Let the mem'ry live again."

She walked with forced elegance across the stage, pausing with a hopeful reach out behind her, but nothing touched her. Her shoulders heaved with a silent sob, but she straightened up again and limped proudly down the ramp.

The applause was deafening, but as soon as she was out of sight, she grabbed both Malcolm and Raymond by the arms and charged towards the nearest smoking-zone, tugging a battered packet of cigarettes and a lighter out of her pocket as her roommate and the boyfriend emerged beside them.

"So," Cigarette dangling from her lips, her make-up still damp with tears, she looked at Blue and Andy expectantly. "How do you think I did? Am I Griz?"

Raymond made an incoherent sound in his throat, one of his arms around Malcolm, who was happily puffing away on a full-tar cigarette. "I think that was a good whimper, Tom." He noted with a smile.

"You were bloody brilliant, Tom." Andy said, nodding, barely able to form words. "Griz has never been that sexy before...what was with flashing your thigh at me?"

"Just a lil something I learned from the German kittens." She chuckled. "As for you two," She looked from Blue to Malcolm. "I think we should have you both stuck in those roles, y'know. You're too frickin' cute."

"No way!" Malcolm protested vehemently. "I don't like that. I'm Misto, not a bloody cat burglar."

"And I'm not letting some other lady curl up with MY Munkustrap." Blue added, determinedly wrapping her arm around Andy's leg. He chuckled, reaching down to pet her. "Actually, I just remembered something...Andy, come with me."

"Shorty, we're only off for two minutes! We don't have time to do anything like that!"

"Shut up, Andy."

"Shutting up."

***

"Miss Lawson?"

"Uh..." Looking nervously up at the steward, Annie wondered briefly if she was about to get in trouble for risking a grope at Coricopat's rear when he was crawling passed her, just before 'The Jellicle Ball'. "Yes?"

"Would you and your friend mind coming with me?"

"I guess not." With a helpless look in the direction of Demi, Rina and Billy, Annie got up and motioned for Maria to join her, both of them following the steward around the crowded aisle and through a passage.

Annie felt a tingle of nervous surprise, realising that they were being led through towards the green room. She had only been there once or twice, several years before, when Menke had still be Munkustrap.

"Excuse me," She tapped the steward. "Why are we going through here?"

"Oh, someone asked for you." The steward smiled, halting at a door and pushing it open to reveal a single figure sitting on a chair. "Mr. Tenant, are these the two you..." He trailed off as Phil launched himself at them, catching Annie in a hug. "I assume that's a yes."

"You grabbed my arse!" He pulled back from his girlfriend, then twirled. "What do you think, though? Is my arse cute in this?"

"Your arse is cute in anything, you daft bugger! I thought I was in trouble!"

Phil gave her a broad grin that looked terrifying under his Coricopat make-up. "I know." He replied, his eyes twinkling. "I thought you might like some nice pictures of me as a cuddly little Coricopat." He batted his eyes. "Aren't I just the cutest?"

"Hell yeah!" Maria put in, then blushed to the roots of her hair.

"Knockity knock!" The door swung open and a silver-tabby face peeped in. "Anyone in here looking for a hunky Munky?" Annie blinked, slowly turning to stare as Andy sinuously glided into the room. "Tiny, get your stripy butt in here."

"All right, all right." Blue grumbled with mock annoyance. "I was the one who told you they'd be round here. You coulda waited for me. I only have short legs." She flashed a grin at both Annie and Maria. "Hope you don't mind me sending him around here." "Uh...?"

"Does that translate as 'Can I have a photo, Andy?'" Phil teasingly patted his girlfriend on the shoulder. "Honestly, Annie, he doesn't look that good in stripes." He paused, then looked over at Blue. "How about you and me, small person? How about letting Rumple and Cori have a thang going on?"

"I've done the Cori thing, already, mate." Blue chuckled. "But I suppose I could try it out again."

"Which leaves me with these two lovely ladies." Andy purred, smoothly slinking towards both of the artists. "Now, who has the camera?"

"Camera?"

"Omigod!" Annie managed to squeak, as Raymond hurried into the room. "Ray!"

"Uh, yeah?"

"I've never seen you in costume before!" She would have hurried towards him, but for a silver tabby that was blocking her way and that she couldn't find the heart to step around. "You'll let us take photos?"

"Photos? As in inspiration for pictures?" Blue sniggered.

"Girl, you know you just have to ask whenever!" Raymond paused with a coy smile. "As long as I get a pretty picture of me and my hunny."

"Your hunny?"

"Mungojerrie at the moment, but usually Misto or Billy Boy."

"Alonzo with a harem..." Annie murmured thoughtfully, her eyes glinting.

"Nah, hon. Just ones enough for me." The big dancer chuckled. "Now, you said somethin' about a camera..."

***

Back in their seats, their cameras protectively hugged by them both, Annie and Maria quickly whispered everything that had happened to Demi, Rina and Billy. Rina laughed merrily. "I remember playing opposite Phil's Munk...what a crackpot!"

"He makes a cute Cori." Annie protested defensively.

"Don't tell us you were looking at him when you had a Munkustrap in the room." Demi teased.

"I...er...well, I did get a hug from him." Annie gave her a lop-sided grin, yelping in fright when an long arm shot out of the pipe at her feet and grabbed her ankle. The arm was followed by Coricopat, then Tantomile, both of them coming to a seated position on their knees at Annie and Maria's feet. "Phil?"

He stared at her blankly, no sign of a smile anywhere on his stoic, calm face. Beside him, Marsha – not fully used to playing the witch cat – tried to hide a small smirk. Shoulder-to-shoulder, they both stared up at the two artists.

Annie snatched out a sketchpad and started drawing them with rapidity, before any of the audience members noticed that Coricopat and Tantomile were back out, five minutes early. In response to the large, open art-book, Phil licked at his 'whiskers' repeatedly, keeping his expression stony and neutral as Annie and Maria both cracked up. 

Marsha, too, was having trouble keeping her face straight. Hiding her face behind Phil's shoulder, a muffled snigger escaped her.

When she finished the quick sketch, Annie turned to book towards him to show a goofy-looking Coricopat sticking his tongue out next to a giggling Tantomile. Phil gave it a cool look, then stared once more up at Annie, before turning and climbing onto the stage with Marsha.

Unable to resist, Annie gave his tail a yank for good measure and received a sharp swat from the patterned figure, which had just hauled himself out of the pipe, only to get a face-full of dangling Coricopat tail.

Pouting along at his wife, Menke rubbed his nose on the back of his warmer and looked as if he were about to burst into floods of tears. Maria reached over and gave him a good wig-rub, which received her a dopey grin and a shaking leg.

He swung up onto the stage, landing on his belly with a slapping sound. Rolling onto his back, he went into the classic Victoria pose, with both legs raised up. However, his face wasn't nearly as tranquil as Victoria's usually was.

Staring up at his raised feet with an expression of awe, he reached up to try and pull one down, but – in doing so – ended up falling flat on his back on the stage, his ankle clutched in his hands and a triumphant look on his face.

Pointing at his captured foot, his face lit up with a wide grin, he frowned, suddenly becoming aware that he was no longer sitting upright and looked around in confusion, as if trying to regain his bearings again.

Figuring out where he was, he stayed in that position, on his back and slowly steered his leg outwards. Repeating to motion with the other leg in the opposite direction, he rolled back upright and straight into the straddle-splits, his legs straight apart and flat on the smooth stage.

"Can you tell him...not to do that?" Billy winced.

"No man should be that flexible at that age." Annie murmured, unable to tear her eyes from Menke as he bent over his right leg and started nibbling on his own knee.

Apparently some of the other cast members were in agreement with the artist, staring down at the thirty-something dancer with something akin to awe. Most of them had seen him stretching and dancing in rehearsals, but nothing at all like this.

Billy furtively crossed his legs, while the four women merely gaped at the tall dancer, until Mungojerrie leap-frogged over Menke's shoulders and landed right in front of them with a broad grin, before ducking off towards the other side of the stage again.

***

"You really shouldn't have done that, hon."

Smearing some more of his make-up off, Malcolm looked up at Raymond, his face a mask of innocence. "Done what, Ray?"

"You know."

Tossing the moist wipe into the bin under the desk, the small Goth retrieved his eye make-up and started adding the black lines carefully. "Is it my fault," He asked, raising his eyes to look at Raymond's via his reflection, "That Mistoffelees wasn't looking where he was going and tripped over my foot during his number and looked like a complete twit?" 

"The fact that Mungojerrie's foot kicked him in the shin is nothing whatsoever to do with it." A voice added from the other desk, where Jordan was cheerfully wiping off his own make-up. "I don't think anyone'll complain about that cocky little git getting taken down a peg or two."

"He might complain to the boss." Raymond protested. "You could get in real trouble, sweetie."

"Me? Trouble? Nah!" Hopping to his feet, Malcolm swung his jacket off the back of his chair. "I was just stretching and the daft bugger wasn't looking where he was going. I have at least a dozen witnesses to plead my case."

"He's not that bad." Andy added from his own desk, as Malcolm squatted down to fasten his boots. Three sets of eyes turned to him skeptically and he raised his hands. "Okay, okay! I was just trying to be nice!"

"Honesty is much more fun." Jordan chuckled. 

"Guys, we're calling it a night." Malcolm stood up. "Apparently, some big poofter here decided that it would be fun to have my sister coming to visit, without telling me and now, we're booked in a restaurant."

Raymond grinned dopily. "She looked like she enjoyed herself, hon."

"Great." Malcolm groused, but his eyes were sparkling. "We'll see you tomorrow and Andy, I want photos, okay?"

"Yes, sir." The tall dancer pulled a face. "Photos, on the double."

Malcolm smirked. "Gotta love being in control."

Andy just blew a raspberry at him.


	14. The Cast - Part 14 - Birthday Blues

"So what's the plan for today?"

Andy, lying in his girlfriend's bed, raised the arm that had flopped over his eyes to look at his lover who had just returned from the shower. "Whaddya mean, Shorty?" He asked, smiling as she sat down on the edge of the bed, laying a hand on his chest.

"Its changeover today." She said, leaning in to claim a kiss. "Isn't it normal for us to...well... do some weird stuff?"

"You're telling me that the Saturday when we were all in the wrong roles wasn't weird enough for you?"

Blue shrugged, cuddling down beside him. "I dunno." She laid her dripping head against his shoulder, fingers tracing circles on his chest. "I just thought we'd be making it something special cos Antoine, John and Jonny are leaving...and Caroline."

Andy nodded. "We should have planned something earlier."

"Its going to be weird without them...I mean, Twang...he's like our Fuhrer." Her boyfriend raised a brow. "Well, he is!"

"I never thought I'd see the day we were having four cast members leaving, but have ten new ones joining the show." In total, they had a new Mungojerrie, Skimbleshanks, Gus, Victor, Jennyanydots and five new swings, including Phil and Menke. 

Despite the fact the rehearsals for the new Etcetera, Mistoffelees and Tugger had finished barely weeks before and they had joined in with the show, more rehearsals had started with the new swings and cast members who were being brought in.

Finally, though, the weeks of rehearsals were done with and all of the dancers had all found they had a strange abundance of energy, because they were dancing less than they had been for months.

Blue sighed, rolling off the bed and onto her feet and stretching. "I s'pose I should actually get dressed." She murmured. "You getting up?"

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, dear," Grabbing the end of the duvet, she yanked it off in one tug and grinned at him. "You do." She bit on her lower lip. "And you might want to cover yourself, in case the window cleaner drops by..."

"Blu-ue!" He whined, grasping after the duvet. "I'm cold now!"

"And you expect me to do what?" Tossing his long hair back, he gave her a broad, wicked grin, his eyes glinting. "Oh no, Mister!" She dived for the door, but her boyfriend caught her first, swinging her off her feet and tumbling her into the heap of covers on the floor. "Andy!"

"Hmm?" He purred, nudging his nose against hers.

"Get off." She pushed futilely at his broad shoulders, his chest pressing against her towel-wrapped torso. 

"Nuh-uh." He murmured, a sexy little grin on his lips that made her flush. He lowered his head and nuzzled her neck, one hand rising to cradled the back of her head as she squirmed, trying to escape him.

A groan – half of frustration, half of pleasure – escaped her. Weaving one hand through his hair, she lifted his head up, making him look straight at her. "Andy, we need to go to work." She was impressed that she got the first sentence out before he kissed her.

"You never told me it was your birthday today...I didn't get a present...didn't have time to choose something..." He whispered, ignoring her start of surprise when he mentioned what day it was. "I want to make it up to you..."

"How did you...Tommy told you, didn't she?"

"The other day." He nodded, tenderly kissing her again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Wasn't impo...Andy, stoppit...we don't have time to..." She tried to prevent his mouth from moving lower than her shoulder and failed miserably. "Andy..." He gave her a small smile, as he dispatched with the towel. "We..."

His fingertips gently touched her lips. "We have plenty of time to get dressed and ready." He said softly. "I changed the clock when you were sleeping last night." She gaped at him, making him smile a little wider. "It's only twelve o'clock..."

"Not three...?"

"I still think it's worrying you need to set an alarm to wake you up at three in the afternoon." He teasingly rubbed his forehead against hers. "So, my little, bitty blue-haired person, are you going to relax and let me treat you?"

"I'm still not getting how this is going to be a treat for me." 

"That's because you're a just kinky little pervert, my dear." Placing a playful lovebite on her smooth neck, he stood up quickly with her held against his chest, making her squeal in surprise and clutch at him.

Dropped onto the bed, she stared up at him. "What's going on, Andy?" She demanded. "You pounce me and strip me and then tell me it's not for that."

"Give me five minutes, m'dear, and I'll think about telling you." Bending to kiss her once more, he grabbed his clean underwear that she had laid out for him on the bedside table and ran out towards the bathroom.

Shaking her head, Blue bent to retrieve her towel and hastily finished toweling herself off. She dressed quickly and made her way out into the living area, only to hear a merry shout from the breakfast bar.

"Happy birthday, little sister!"

"Tommy, I asked you not...er..." Blue couldn't help staring at her roommate, her face twisting in an expression of disturbed confusion. "Um..." Tommy grinned at her and adjusted the conical blue- and white-striped party hats that were serving as a bra. "Tommy, what on earth...?"

The taller dancer looked down at her chest. "You think this is good?" She rounded the bar, pirouetting with a devilish grin.

"Is that...?" Blue eyes bugged and the tiny dancer swallowed hard.

"A party tooter!" A look of determined concentration crossed Tommy's face and there was a feeble toot from the colourful cardboard and plastic trumpet that was being played in a very unique fashion.

Blue managed to nod and blink, but it took her several more minutes of incredulous staring before she could manage to find words. "Are..." There was another toot and she couldn't stop herself giggling. "You're trying to stop me being annoyed that you told Andy, aren't you?"

"Nah, tiny." Tommy returned behind the bar to pour herself a mug of coffee. "I just had this very strange urge to use a party tooter as a semi-suppository." She started to sit, then yelped, leaping up again. "One second..."

There was a weak toot, then a thud as the redundant tooter landed in the bin.

"So..." The big dancer sat down, grinning. "Happy birthday and all that."

"You told Andy."

Tommy shrugged. "You expected me to keep it quiet?"

"I asked you to."

Ebony eyes challenged blue. "Has anything bad come of the fact he knows that you're a year older and a completely legal adult?" Blue reluctantly shook her head, sitting down on the stool opposite her friend. "Well, then. What's the problem if he knows?"

"It's the principal of the thing."

"You mean you don't want presents?"

Blue raised her eyes. "I haven't needed them for seven years, have I?"

"Want and need are two very different things, sweets." Bending under the counter, Tommy sat up again and handed a gift-wrapped, square box to the petite dancer. "That's why I intend to spoil you rotten while I can." She smiled, retrieving her cigarette from the ashtray. "Go ahead. Open it."

"It isn't my own party tooter, is it?"

Tommy chuckled, blowing out a plume of smoke. "Nah, kid. I didn't think you'd appreciate those as much as I do. They're an acquired taste..." Blue started to peel off the paper before Tommy cheerfully added. "It's a King Dong vibrator, in case Andy is giving you enough."

"Giving her enough what?" Andy asked, emerging from the bathroom door, five feet away and joining them at the breakfast bar. He had sleepily managed to get dressed, although his T-shirt was on backwards and he had yet to notice.

"Tommy thought I needed a vibrator for my birthday..." Blue, flushed to the tips of her ears, continue to tear off screeds of colourful wrapping paper, sincerely hoping her roommate had been joking.

"Damn! That was what I was going to get you!" Both women looked at him with identical grins and he immediately blushed. "I meant in the way that she's completely insatiable and I get tired too quickly for her."

Tommy reached over to pat him on the head. "Keep telling yourself that, little boy." She cooed with a smile.

"I'm not even going to rise to the bait, Tom."

"I think that might be half the problem, Andy Pandy." The tall dancer gave him a wickedly cheek grin.

"Blu-ue!"

Andy's pout went unnoticed as a small, blue-haired being shot around the counter and wrapped its arms around Tommy. "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!"

"So you actually dared to open the box, then?" Tommy looked down, clearly amused, her cigarette held between two fingers as she patted the smaller dancer on the head. "Like I said, kid, I intend to spoil you rotten for the last seven years you missed."

Blue was already bouncing on her toes, staring into the box with a look of absolute delight on her face. "Eeeeeeeeeeh! Its great!" Reaching up, she yanked Tommy's head down and kissed her full on the lips. "Thank you!"

"If I'd known you'd react like that, I would have bought you it the day I met you." Tommy gave her a sultry look.

"And I would probably have run screaming." Blue threw her arms around her friend again. "I always wanted one!"

"Wanted one what?"

"A bike." Tommy replied for her giddily bouncing roommate, who nodded.

Andy raised a brow. "A bike? You fitted a bike in that box?"

"Nope!" Blue squeaked, reaching into the box and withdrawing a key ring. "She fitted a key for the bike in a box!"

"A...key?" Andy stared across at the smirking Tommy, a look of absolute horror and panic on his face. "Dear God..." He groaned, shaking his head. "You didn't get her something with an engine and wheels, did you?"

"She got me a freaking Harley Davidson!" Blue shrieked, still clinging to the older dancer, who was having trouble keeping her face straight, although her attention was more on keeping her cigarette in her hand. "Where is it? Can I see it?"

"Its in the garage, in our..." Before she finished, the tiny dancer had shot out the front door like a small, blue-haired rocket. "Parking space."

"You know I'm never going to be able to match that, Tom." Andy said quietly, accepting the mug of coffee she was pouring.

Tommy looked up at him from beneath her lashes and smiled slightly. "You never know, Andy. Our kid holds a lot of things dear and those things can be the most strange and trivial things in the world. Did you know she still has the tickets from the night of your first date?"

"The Lazer Quest tickets? I do too."

"No, doofus. The tube tickets and the bus tickets to Jonny's flat and the parking tickets from the car park." Andy looked at her, surprised. "Trust me, big guy, she really does keep the weirdest things as mementos, so everything you give her will be more treasured than anything I could ever give her."

They were both silent for a long moment, before Andy looked up from his coffee. "Tommy, can I ask you something?" She nodded with a shrug. "You said you were spoiling her for the seven years she missed. How did you know today was her birthday?"

"She didn't want me to tell you about it, in case you got upset and wanted to go on a personal vendetta." The dancer sighed, leaning on her forearms on the counter. "The trial dates came through for Sean. I had to help her fill in legal details with her lawyer, so she's ready to give her testimony when she has to. She had to put her birth date on it."

"Oh."

"Don't take it the wrong way, Andy." One of Tommy's manicured hands closed reassuringly over his. "She..." The dancer lowered her eyes. "She's never had any reason for celebrating her birthday since..." She trailed off helplessly.

Andy looked at her, bitter gall rising in his throat. "He did it on her birthday, didn't he?"

"After the little party her mum had arranged before she went away on business." Tommy nodded sadly. "Her last hours as a child were spent with her childhood friends, having a normal, happy party. By the next morning, she was halfway to becoming Blue." She looked down at their joined hands. "I would vote it the world's worst birthday present."

Andy couldn't think of anything to say. He had always thought his family situation was a rather grim one, being shunted from stepfamily, to half-family, to other stepfamily every other week for much of his youth, but he knew which he would take if he had a choice between his past and his petite lover's.

They sat in silence again, until he raised his head.

"She deserves something better than that." He said quietly.

"I'll say." Tommy absently fiddled with the rainbow-coloured streamers attached to one of her conical boob-covers. "Does she know what's going on at the show tonight?" She asked abruptly. "I mean, with the changeover and...everything..."

A slow smile spread across Andy's face. "Not a chance." He replied. "I made sure that no one breathed a word of it to her...and seeing as she's always the first one on the stage, she won't have a clue until it's too late."

"Our poor, poor baby." Tommy smirked.

"Don't feel too bad for her." He wagged a finger. "You did just give her a Harley."

The pounding of feet on the stairs outside the door made them look around, as a breathless Blue burst back in, a brilliant grin on her face. 

"It matches my hair!" She yelled, spinning in a circle and racing across to join them, leaping up to sit on the counter and knocking Andy's half-finished coffee over. Tommy squealed as it splashed all over her chest.

"My bra! You killed it!"

"Oops!"

Andy laughed. "I think that's our cue to leave, Shorty."

"We're taking my bike, right?"

The tall dancer looked up at her, a combination of panic and mock panic on his face. "You've got a license?" Blue nodded eagerly, reaching down to kiss him firmly. "And helmets? I'm not going anywhere unless you have a helmet and body armour."

"Oh..."

Tommy grinned broadly at the crest-fallen look on her young roommate's face. "Try the laundry room." She suggested.

Blue nodded, bouncing off the counter and bobbing over to the laundry room and stopping short with a shriek of delight that made both of the older dancers wince and check their ears weren't bleeding.

"Andy! Look!" She dived into the room and back out with two helmets in her hand, one an electric blue, the other black. The blue one had her name written in jagged, lightening-like writing across the front, above the vizor.

The black one, though, made Andy cry out in protest. "I am not kitten-whipped!"

"Andy, stop complaining." Blue forced it onto his head, his hair sticking out the bottom of it. "I think you look cute."

"Blue, you can't see his face." Tommy added with malicious glee.

Andy made a rude gesture, which Blue ignored in favour of pulling on her tough leather cycle jacket that matched the leather trousers she was wearing. "Thank you, Tommy!" She looked down at herself. "I feel so cool!"

"One thing..." Andy's muffled voice spoke.

"Yep?"

"You don't know where we're going."

Blue pouted at him. "That's a technicality." She raised a brow. "Where are we going, then?"

"You remember our first date...?"

"We're going lazer questing! Whoohoo!"

"Actually, we..." She stared up at him. "Yes, we're going lazer questing." She could see his smile glinting in his eyes, although she couldn't see his mouth. "Where else would I take you on a special occasion?"

"And I'm driving!" She spun in a circle. "Whee!"

Tommy smirked as the tiny dancer caught Andy's hand and led – although it looked like she was physically dragging – him towards the door. 

"If you get there in one piece, have fun." She called after them. One of Andy's fingers seemed to rise of its own accord in Tommy's direction. "Love you too, Andy." She remarked, as the door closed behind the couple.

***

"Can we go in yet?"

"No."

"Now?"

"No!"

There was a pause of about three seconds.

"How about now?"

Andy looked down at his tiny girlfriend. She was bouncing up and down on her toes, on the step beside him, already armed with her lazer blaster. "Because I booked it for one o'clock and its not one o'clock yet."

"Even though we took the scenic route and everything..." Blue sighed. "I thought it was meant to take half an hour that way."

Still slightly green in the face region, although looking considerably better than he had when he had fallen off the bike, yanked off the helmet and heaved copiously in the car park, Andy looked down at her. 

"It IS meant to take half an hour, Shorty." He remarked dryly. "Didn't you wonder why that nice police car was flashing its blue lights at you?"

"Police car...?"

Giving her a watery grin, he reached down to ruffle her hair. "Just teasing."

"That's it." She poked him in the side with the blaster. "I'm going to beat your bony butt, whether you like it or not."

"You always do, tiny." He grinned.

She stuck her tongue out at him, then looked around the waiting room, where they had been given their choice of weapons, both picking opposing colours. "Andy, is it just going to be us in there?" She asked, a thought hitting her. "There's no one else here..."

"Well, I did book it." Andy replied, his eyes glinting. "Lets see if you can take out my bony butt with no one about to help you." In front of them, the door swung open into the huge area that they used for 'combat'.

"Like you said," Blue gave him a sly look. "I always beat you." She darted through the door way, but had barely crossed the thresh hold when a volley of beeps sounded from the panel on her chest and she stared around as familiar smiling faces popped out from behind the pillars and columns.

"Surprise!" Jonny yelled, before vanishing off up a flight of stairs, closely followed by Moni.

"Andy?" Blue looked around, only to feel her lover's blaster against her back. 

"You think we'd play on our own?" He asked, clearly amused. "What's the fun of that?"

The back panel of her vest started beeping and she squealed, diving forward and behind one of the metal pillars. "That was cheating, you git!" She shouted, starting to run through the labyrinth of the lower floor.

"Call it the element of surprise." Andy's voice rang back to her.

"He's got you there." Another voice added from right behind her and Blue squeaked in fright as Menke leapt out beside her. He glanced at her vest, then his. They were both bright orange. "I think that means we're on the same team, doesn't it?"

"You knew about this?!?"

"Well, its kind of hard to have a conspiracy of one person, isn't it?" Grabbing her arm, Menke yanked her back underneath the solid part of the stairs, after spotting Georgina leering down at them through the grating of the floor, wearing a green vest.

Blue exhaled a huff of indignation. "He thinks he's gonna beat me at this!" She exclaimed, shifting her weapon in her hand. "Menke, how many are here?"

"Enough."

"That helps." He grinned at her. "Okay...you go that way, I'll go this way and we kick Andy's bony arse, all right?"

"Sounds like a good deal to me." The black and silver-haired dancer nodded, darting off in the direction she had intended to go. Blue shook her head with a low moan of despair, before sprinting off in the other direction.

She could hear yells and squeals of laughter over the shrill beeps of the vests all around the maze, some she thought she could identify, others she wasn't entirely sure of.

"Look out below!" A laughing voice yelled from above and she looked up to see Raymond – clad in an orange vest – pounding along the gantry above her head, hotly pursued by Malcolm, in a green vest.

She started for the main flight of stairs, stopping short when a blaster prodded at her back of her vest. "Surprise, little sister!"

"Tommy?!"

"Who else?" There was a shrill beep from her vest and the blue-haired dancer moaned. "You better start shooting people soon, sweets." Tommy advised with a chuckle. "Don't wanna be the person with the lowest score, do ya?"

"It's not fair!" Blue wailed, running for all she was worth.

Andy appeared out of nowhere and fired a round at her chest. "You say that so often," He grinned, dodging behind a canopy. "I wonder what your basis for comparison is..."

"I'll get you for that!"

"You and what army, Shorty?" There was a loud beep from his direction, followed by a muffled expletive. "Menke?"

"That army." Blue replied smugly, before howling and charging around one of the balustrades.

***

"How on earth did you find this place?" Blue looked around as she entered the cafe, admiring the colourful Grease-styled decor. She was at the fore of a group of over a dozen and the cafe was – fortuitously – deserted.

Andy looked around with a reminiscent grin. "I worked here to pay my way through dance school." He replied.

"Good aft..." A woman had just emerged from a door behind the counter and stopped short at the sight of the group standing there, in particular, the tall dancer with the long, brown hair and the backwards T-shirt. "Andy! Good grief, my boy! Where have you been?"

Andy grinned. "Nice to see you too, Helen." He accepted a warm hug from the middle-aged woman, who looked him up and down. "Yes, mum, I have been eating properly, I haven't started doing drugs, I still don't smoke and I've been getting laid regularly."

"How did you know I was going to ask?"

The dancer chuckled. "I know you too well, Hel." He replied. "By the way, these are my nutty work mates. We're out for a bit of a do, before we go to work this evening..." He motioned around at them. "Got room for fifteen?"

"Not a problem, as long as you don't mind waiting." The group immediately fanned out into the window booths. Helen glanced at her watch and sighed. "I'll have to drag Bertie in from the yard, though."

"The cats still causing problems?"

Helen shook her head. "That's the thing." She said, a quiet note of sadness in her voice. "They've gone. They all vanished after a massive thunderstorm...haven't seen hide nor hair of any of them since then."

"What, even Elvis?"

"Even Elvis."

"Elvis?" Blue nudged her boyfriend.

A reminiscent look crossed Andy's face. "Nuttiest cat you ever were likely to meet." He replied with a smile. "Somehow went from being a dark calico to a white with gold markings and a fuzzy ruff. Liked playing Elvis Presley music in the Jukebox."

"Sounds weird all right."

"He saved a kid's life once, as well." Andy looked down at his lover. "You'd have liked the annoying little sod." He turned to Helen with a smile. "By the way, Hel, I'd like you to meet the love-interest. This is Blue."

"Pleased to meet you, Blue." The plump, sandy-haired woman eyed the small dancer suspiciously like any mother would eye a son's prospective girlfriend. Blue tried not to look too nervous, smiling weakly at her.

"Likewise," The tiny dancer pressed against her boyfriend's side timidly. "Andy, I'm going to sit with Tommy and Syl..."

Both Andy and Helen watched as the little dancer fled to join the two women already seated in one of the booths, chatting. "I think you scared her, Hel." He remarked with a faint grin. "Poor squirt knows you're the equivalent of my mum."

"Interesting looking girl..."

Andy nodded, watching her scoot into the vacant seat opposite Tommy. "Interesting story behind it." He remarked, then looked back around at Helen. "How about I give you a hand, just now Hel? I want to have a word anyways..."

"If you can still toss a burger or two, I think we're in business." She motioned him through to the kitchen under the counter. "I still have that lovely flowery pinny that you love so much."

***

"Joseph! Hi!" The small American dancer looked up from his comic book suspiciously. Tommy was standing over him, a broad, friendly smile on her face. "You want to share this dinner with me?" She sat down opposite him, a bag of an Indian take away in her hands.

"Don't you usually share with Blue, or the others?" He asked.

Tommy shrugged. "Blue and Andy went off for a shag somewhere. Mal doesn't eat Indian food and Raymond already ate." She placed two plates from the kitchenette on the table in front of him, along with cutlery. "Smells good, huh?" She opened out the foil containers, tangy, savoury-scented steam rising from them.

The blond dancer couldn't help staring at the sickly yellow colour of the meat and sauce it was liberally lathered in. "What…" He blinked tears from his eyes. The stuff really did smell incredibly strong. "What is that stuff?"

"I think its Vindaloo." Tommy dolloped lumps of the meat onto a heap of florescent yellow rice, the hideous-coloured sauce splashing over the rim of the plate on onto the table. She licked her fingers and grinned. "Wanna dare to try some?"

"It looks gross."

"Doesn't mean it tastes bad, though. I mean, look at the French…they eat snails and stuff. Doesn't mean it tastes bad…" She paused and smirked. "Although it probably does. Go on, Jo…live a little…" The tall dancer cajoled him, scooping up a lump of the dripping, aromatic stuff and devouring it with a groan. "I forgot how good they always are…"

Joseph dubiously looked at the empty plate and the containers that were still releasing swirling clouds of steam. "Is it hot?"

"Not particularly." Tommy replied around a mouthful, hastily licking up a dribble of sauce that was trickling down her chin. She inclined her head to the containers with a smile. "Go ahead…try some…if you don't like it, you don't have to eat anymore."

"But I'm on a diet…"

Tommy rolled her eyes. "Jo, trying one mouthful of Vindaloo won't kill you."

Reluctantly Joseph nodded, picking up the spare fork and delicately spearing up a little of the meat and the yellowish slime that was liberally poured all over it. Hesitantly, he placed it in his mouth, as if expecting a bolt of lightening to strike him down for daring to try something different.

"Well?" Tommy prompted.

Joseph chewed thoughtfully for several seconds. "That stuff is good!" He exclaimed, dipping his fork in for another mouthful.

A smirk lifted the corner of Tommy's lips. "I thought you might say that." She murmured, watching the health-conscious little American pile the remnants of the take away from the foil boxes onto a plate and start devouring it as if he had never seen food.

***

"You won't believe what just happened."

Looking around from the make-up mirror, Raymond blinked at his boyfriend. "What, hon?" He asked, glancing back down at the new make-up pattern he had been given on arrival, along with the freshly painted unitard.

"I'm on as Misto tonight."

"But I saw Joseph kicking around in the seats, reading a comic, when we got in from the cafe." Andy was in the process of delicately adding black stripes to his cheeks. "He was at the warm-ups as well! What happened to him?"

Malcolm shrugged, hurrying to his mirror and snatching up some baby wipes. "I'm not about to complain." He grinned, wiping off the Bill Bailey make-up. "I get to play my favourite character on the changeover. There's no badness there."

"But what happened to Wonder Boy?" Andy repeated.

"Oh, Wonder Boy went and got a nasty tummy upset." A smug voice spoke from the door. All four men turned and looked at Tommy, who was leaning against the doorframe, already in make-up and wig, and grinning wickedly.

Something in the grin made Raymond whimper in terror and haul Malcolm to him. 

Although he probably would have done that anyway. 

Andy raised a questioning eyebrow. "What do you mean by tummy upset, Tommy?"

The painted dancer's smirk grew a little wider. "Well," She explained patiently, like a teacher would to a child. "He's on such a strict diet for his sensitive little tummy-wummy and his everso stable metabolism."

"And…?"

"And I convinced him to try and delicious, although very mild Vindaloo." She replied, a look of mock-innocence on her face. "Apparently his fragile constitution couldn't deal with it very well and he spent half an hour heaving his guts up after rehearsals."

Malcolm's face split into a grin of delight. "Tommy! I could kiss you!"

"Don't even think about it!" She raised her hands quickly to ward him off, lest he tried to do just what he had threatened. "I just got my make-up perfect and I don't need you smearing it all over the place."

"You could always come and smooch me, hon." Raymond, lifted his lover off his feet and grinned down at him, not really giving the small Goth much choice in the matter. "After all, you haven't got make-up on and I'm all white just now…"

"You guys are going to give me a tummy upset now." The female dancer groaned, turning away as the couple shared a kiss.

Andy pulled a face at them. "I can't imagine ever being as mushy or froofy as you two are." He shook his head with mock-disgust. "Kissing all over the place…all romantic and stuff…its just not right, y'know."

"This coming from you, Mister Mush, himself?" Jordan sniggered.

"Hey! I am NOT mushy!" Andy protested vehemently. "You don't see me giving Blue flowers or chocolates or anything stupid like that!"

"No. You don't." Tommy smirked at him, fluffing her wig with her fingertips. "You just get things you know she'll like whenever you think she needs them, which is every other second of every other day."

"And after what you set up for her this show…" Raymond added, depositing his lover back on the floor and turning his attention to the make-up trays. "Now…" He peered at the colours. "Do I use pink or uber-pink?"

Tommy shook her head with a groan. "God help us all when Munk goes romantic and sloppy and Alonzo goes pink…"


	15. The Cast - Part 15 - Changeover: Act 1

"Where is everyone?"

"Hmm?" Menke looked up from the novel he was reading. He was lying on his belly on the floor, his chin resting on his crossed wrists. His make-up got a raised brow from the petite dancer. "What was that?"

Blue pulled her gloves on. "Where is everyone? Normally they're buggering about in here."

"From what I heard, we were late in so everyone's a bit disorganised." He grinned at her. "You and me are the best ones at getting ready in a hurry, or so I heard...unless, you count the time Andy got into Munk make-up in five minutes."

"That was Tommy's fault." Blue chuckled, shaking her head and sitting down on the vacant seat next to him. "Uh...Menke, can I ask you something?" Green eyes looked up at her. "What the heck are you meant to be?"

He frowned. "Whaddya mean?"

"Did you just do your make-up blindfolded? You've got a ruddy great brown patch around your mouth."

Menke pouted at her. "I thought it looked pretty!" He exclaimed. "This is the George Bailey make-up, I'll have you know!" Seeing the puzzled look on her face, he groaned. "Don't tell me you've never heard of George Bailey."

"Closest I can guess it that he's Bill Bailey's evil twin." Blue gave him a helpless look.

"Pretty close there." Menke chuckled, swinging upright and sitting cross-legged. "I think he used to be called George, with a brown patch one eye and a black on the other." He puckered his lips. "The chocolate moustache was added somewhere along the line when they brought in the new costume design."

The petite dancer gave him a sceptical look. "And they just named him George Bailey?"

"Them? Nah! You're the net geek." Menke smirked. "You should know the nutcases that came up with it."

"Fans came up with it?"

"Apparently at the twentieth anniversary, when Rory Baines was playing him, he made a bit of an impression on them." 

"And they named him?"

Stretching out his legs, Menke lifted himself on his hands and swung up onto his feet, straightening up. "Some strange girl, a friend of Annie's I think, came up with it and it kind of stuck in the cats fan world." He snickered. "Always knew they were weirdos."

Blue shook her head with a smile. "Look whose talking there." She remarked dryly, rising and taking Menke's arm. "Think we should just head to our places and wait for the others down there?" She looked around. "I don't like it when its this quiet."

"Why?" Menke gave her a sneaky grin. 

Blue scowled at him. "Cos this is always what happens in horror films, right before the main character gets killed." She glanced around again. "All I would have to do is run around, calling for help, and it would be perfect."

"Well," The tiny dancer shrieked as she was hoisted off her feet and swung over Menke's shoulder. "I'll protect you from the big, nasty cast members!" He bellowed, sprinting for the stairs, with the girl gripping his tail belt for dear life. 

"Some comfort!" She managed to yell, as she bounced against his back.

Menke laughed, jogging down the flight of stairs without letting her down, one arm securely wrapped around her narrow waist as he took at least four stairs at a time, Blue screaming all the way down. 

***

"She doesn't suspect a thing." Andy murmured to Tommy as he placed his glowing eyes on over his wig. The red-decked dancer gave him a curious look, as she attached her own. "I just spoke to Menke. She thinks we were all just running late."

"Dozy little tart, isn't she?" Tommy chuckled affectionately.

"Think I'll manage to surprise her, hon?" Raymond inquired with a wide smile. He had switched places with Geeta, leaving her with Tony and Rhiannon. 

His friend gave him a cynical look, ebony eyes sparkling with mischief. "No, Ray." Tommy replied, in a dead monotone. "I do not think that you will surprise her at all." Her eyes drifted down his body. "Much."

Raymond just grinned at her, which looked very odd against the colours of his make-up.

"You know," Rachel's voice came from right next to Andy, making him squeal with fright. "He looks like he's trying to outdo us in the weirdness scale here." She cast an eye over his make-up. "Now, why can every guy in this bleeding show do their make-up better than me?"

"Don't do that." Andy whined, clutching his chest. "Its scary!"

"Do what?" Jordan spoke from Andy's other side, initiating an equally loud squeal from the black and silver dancer.

Rachel smirked at her husband. "I think you scared him, dear." She cooed, motioning him to join her. She looped an arm around his waist, her right temple resting against his left. "Like the adjusted make-up?"

"Adjusted?" Three pairs of eyes stared at them, then – more specifically – at their foreheads.

Tommy's eyes bugged, her jaw dropping. Andy started sniggering behind his hand and Raymond giggled. "That doesn't say what I think it says, does it?"

"Well, none of the audience ever pay attention to us, so whose gonna know?" Jordan flashed a broad grin at her.

"You've both got sex written on your foreheads! I think someone might notice!"

"Sex?" The pair looked at each other in shock. "Tommy, you must be mistaken." Rachel shook her head, tutting gravely. "We only have some new speckles on our foreheads. Nothing more than that."

"Speckles that spell sex!" Tommy exclaimed.

Jordan rolled his eyes. "Prude." He grumbled, pulling his wife in front of him, his arm looped around her waist, and dipping his head to kiss his way up her neck.

"Hold up...you're calling Tommy a prude?" Andy goggled at them.

"Mmm-hmm." Jordan replied, before initiating a blindingly sexual kiss with the smirking Rachel, involving visible use of a lot of tongue on both sides and including twin sets of tongue piercings clicking together.

The other trio stared at them in shock. Normally, the couple never really publicly displayed the fact that they were actually involved, let alone married and now...

"That has to be wrong..." Andy uttered over the gentle click-click-click of the couple's matching tongue studs. "Christ...I've never seen a tongue that long..."

Rachel replied with a groan, cheerfully giving him the finger, as her husband's hand slid up from her waist, over her ribs and gave her small breast a squeeze through the thin material of her unitard.

"Don't you guys...like...breathe?" Raymond asked faintly.

Pulling apart, the couple exchanged smouldering looks, then Jordan turned back to their three stunned observers. "Well, we couldn't do a regular mouth-to-mouth thing, y'know. It would smudge our make-up." His hand continued to massage his wife's breast as he spoke.

"Plus, that way is always a fun way to shut people up." Rachel added with a grin. "They get so busy staring, they forget that they were actually telling us to stop." Her eyes sparkled, then she exclaimed. "Ooh! Did you like our studs?"

"Studs?"

"Uh-huh! The tongue studs!" She grinned. "Surely you noticed what was on them."

"Funny as it may sound, I was a little distracted by your husband's tongue licking yours..." 

Jordan snickered. "You're not very observant." He murmured, he and his wife both sticking their tongues out. Right in the middle of their tongues, each of them had one of the cat's eyes from the logo of the show.

"You guys are weird." Andy observed dryly.

Rachel nodded, reaching behind her back and giving her husband a squeeze. "Well, at least we're weird and happy together." She smiled back at her other half, who nodded. "What do you think, Tommy?"

"Nuuuuugh?"

Andy's mismatched eyes went wide with shock. "Omigod!" He gasped, clutching at Raymond's muscular arm. The big dancer didn't object, smirking. "Ray..." He managed to get out. "Th-they managed to shut Tommy up..."

Tommy made an incoherent sound in her throat, still staring at Rachel.

"So she likes a girl with a long tongue, eh?" Rachel's wicked grin widened and she slowly slid her tongue between dark red lips, revealing a pink tongue longer than any that any of the trio had seen before.

"The piercing chap said that he could probably fit five studs in a row along it." Jordan put in conversationally. He reached up and gave it a playful tug with his forefinger and thumb. "Personally, I like it just the way it is."

The call that they were to go to places didn't stop Tommy staring at the pierced tongue, Andy forcefully dragging her away from the couple. She was still whimpering about it when they reached their opening positions.

"Tommy, it's a bleedin' tongue." Antoine sighed, when Andy tried to explain why Tommy was suddenly developing a crush on Rachel.

"Twang, dear," The tall woman turned on him, giving him a pointed look. "I'm a card-carrying lezzer, remember. I don't know what you know about our 'ways', but for me, a long tongue is never, ever a bad thing."

Andy gave her a nudge. "What about Sylvie?"

"Ah, she's is well-endowed in the length region as well..."

"She has a big dick?"

"Who has?" Helen asked, approaching and straightening her tail.

Tommy gave Andy an exasperated look. He grinned back at her. "Apparently, my girlfriend, Hel." She replied, leaving Helen staring at her in confusion, as the red-garbed dancer ran out into the auditorium. 

***

Panting after the exertion of Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats, Blue practically sleep-walked her way through The Naming, aiming for the three young women seated at the end of Row D of the moving platform.

Annie gave her a wave, grinning. 

Descending from the stage, she approached, directing her lines straight at them, staring down at them with all the disdain she could muster. Annie was having none of it and lifted her art folder into her lap.

Blue coolly gazed at her, raising her brows as if saying 'You expect a little thing like that to get me?', which only made Annie all the more determined to actually catch her out and she opened the folder, withdrawing a picture.

Everso slowly, she turned it towards the gold- and black-garbed dancer, giving her a particularly smug grin. Blue's eyes went a tiny bit wider, but she stayed in character, despite having to bite down on her lip to do so.

Annie pouted, as if disappointed, then slowly reached down and started pulling up the bottom of her shirt, flashing a strip of belly. 

That did it.

The combination of the picture and the old joke about audience members flashing...

Demeter released a loud and unladylike snort of laughter, a broad smile flashing across her face. With a hiss at Annie, Blue darted back behind the scenes, shaking her head and clambering up to watch the Invitation dance over the back of the set.

She always liked watching the graceful dance, mainly because it meant she wasn't on stage and she could have a break. Also, it was one of the most beautiful examples of good form that she got a chance to see in the show and that was never something to sniff at.

On two occasions, she had to play Victoria, which had scared a lot of people because she was a contortionist and Victoria suddenly did frightening things that no mere mortal was meant to with her body.

However, something seemed slightly off about Victoria tonight.

Not on the grace and posture side, though. The leg-lift was exquisite and - as usual - many of the audience were wincing. However, something about the dancer's body shape seemed to be a little...wrong.

"Hey, luv." 

"Andy, is Geeta off tonight?"

Andy shrugged, his shoulder pressing against hers, his eyes on the dancing figure on the stage. "Not that I know of. I saw her around a bit ago." He glanced down at her. "What made you think she was off?"

"Geeta isn't that big." Blue nodded towards the dancer who was sliding down into the splits.

"Well, duh!" A voice said from below them and Blue turned to look down. A look that combined shock, disbelief and astonishment crossed her face. Geeta grinned up at her from behind black and white make-up. "Like the new look?"

"Oh no..." Blue whimpered. "If Geeta is Alonzo then..." Her eyes returned to the large male dancer who was finishing his routine on centre stage, in the perfect, male-size Victoria costume, kindly provided by Annie and Maria. "Andy, that isn't...Ray, is it?"

Her lover didn't answer, grinning and leading the group charge over the back of the junk at Malcolm's call of the Invitation. When 'Victoria' got to his feet and towered over Mistoffelees, it answered the small dancer's question for her.

Her muttered "Nooooo..." went unheard. 

***

Things progressed much along the same line for the continuation of the show. After getting over the shock of seeing Raymond actually doing the full splits for the Invitation, things got back to...normal?

With the opening lines of Jennyanydots' song, the strangest thing happened. Everything was absolutely perfect in absolutely every way. No one messed around, no one missed cues, no one tripped.

Except Caroline Dickson in the role of Jennyanydots

An utter perfectionist, this was the first time on record that she had missed her footing and most of the cast grinned, because they knew why: the shock of everyone actually doing everything right had startled her.

Her blatant astonishment and horror at committing an error, no matter how slight it was, almost made the rest of the cast crack up into hysterical laughter, but – fortunately – they managed to control themselves for the most part.

At least until it reached Tugger's number.

Prior to the show, Jordan had begged, pleaded and tried to bribe Roberto into letting him play the Tugger for changeover night, but the newly returned dancer had stubbornly told him that if he wanted to be a stud, he could be a studly Coricopat.

What he didn't realise was that, with half the female cast willing to join in on the joke, that was just what would happen. 

The second Tugger burst through the backdrop of the stage meant that he got about a second of attention. 

That was before almost every single lady on the stage raced over to coo over the smirking dark Warlock, who seemed to have replaced his lower body with rubber, his pelvis swivelling – seemingly unnoticed by him.

The moment he realised what was going on, Roberto immediately gave Jordan a curious look, cocking his brow. Jordan merely blew a kiss at him, before starting to perform the Tugger routine in his place.

Turning his attention to the only person not chasing Jordan, Roberto miserably shuffled in the direction of Blue, who was wrapped up in Andy's arms on the boot of the car, opening his arms for a hug.

Andy bared his teeth at him. Roberto returned the motion. A second later, Blue was tipped on the floor and Andy and Roberto had started a girly slapping fight at the back of the stage, only stopped when Blue got up and slapped Roberto on the rear.

The big dancer leapt two feet in the air, then gave her an anguished look, before racing off to take over the rest of his number, when Coricopat cheerfully ignored Bombalurina in favour of performing a body ripple in sync with his mate's body, which was pressed against his.

With Coricopat and Tantomile slinking back across the stage, leaving Roberto to finish his number, they had never drawn more attention to one another. 

Pressed chest to chest, they moved in an intricate tango motion, their limbs twisting sinuously around one another's. They were staring intensely into one another's eyes, each of them with their left arm by their sides, Jordan's right hand on her back, Rachel's right splayed on the back of his head.

Blue nudged Andy, nodding questioningly in the direction of the dark pair. Andy gave her a blank look and shrug, gathering her back in her arms, despite the fact she was meant to be one of the group chasing Tugger.

She swatted him, but to no avail. 

Sighing, she let him hug her tightly, bursting into a fit of giggles as Raymond took the place of the squealing Victoria at Tugger's feet, which was only made worse when Roberto bent and stared at him, an expression of confusion on his face.

Rayond grinned broadly, popping up on his knees and splatting a wet kiss on the startled dancer's nose. Roberto blinked twice, shaking his head, then finished his name with a coy grin in Raymond's direction, receiving a shy wave for his effort from the giggling 'Victoria'.

Fortunately, only a small number of the audience noticed that when Tugger stalked off during the appearance of Grizabella, he appeared on the pipe again and snuggled up with the large and giggly Victoria.

That song – along with Jennyanydots - was the only one that survived the abuse that the cast was hurling out to every single part of the show. Blue, though, enjoyed the song too much to let any of the boys mess it up.

The only ad lib that featured in the song was when she tried to walk forward a step and her leg snagged on something. That something transpired to be her leg warmer, which was caught on Menke's teeth.

He grinned at her and received a smack on the rear from Tommy before he released the mouthful of wool that he had. Whipping around, he dived between Tommy's feet, taking her tail with him and yanking her backwards.

Deliberately losing her balance, the red-clad dancer landed in the startled Menke's lap, giving him a sensual smile, before sliding smoothly to her feet, her body rubbing up his. As his kitten role demanded, he immediately went into the raptures, then faked a faint behind her.

Tommy licked her finger, marking a one in the air, before singing her section of 'Grizabella', her arm around Blue's shoulder. Blue just shook her head and tried to muffle a helpless snigger at her roommate's expression.

Sliding halfway down the ramp after the receding Grizabella, Blue had to clap a hand to her nose to stem her sniggering, when she noticed the piece of paper stuck to Helen's coat with the words 'Kick me' written on it.

Thanking her lucky stars that she had been distracted by Menke earlier in the song, she remained on the ramp a little longer than was strictly necessary, trying to force her grin down and retain some semblance of a normal expression on her face.

On stage, John was bustling around as Bustopher and Tommy was flirting copiously with him, blowing kisses at him. John was acting flattered to her face, but kept looking around at the audience with a horrified look on his face.

Remarkably, Caroline seemed to have relaxed since her slip-up and was scaring several of the male dancers by tweaking their rears as they passed her and nodding in the direction of behind the tyre in a more than obvious way.

Menke, of course, gleefully charged in to be the centre of her affections. On receiving a firm wig rub from her, which left one of his legs vertical and waving frantically in the air, a blissed look appeared on his face, which faded rapidly when Andy and Tony hauled him back into the line-up.

However, even in the line, his leg seemed to have taken on a life of its own, rising level with his shoulder. John bent close and gave it a firm poke, making Menke twitch and fall over backwards into a handspring.

"Show off." Jordan muttered under his breath as Menke landed neatly on his feet, when Bustopher moved off.

"Thankin' you." Menke retorted quietly, grinning.

"I can outdo that." 

Green eyes met brown. "A challenge?" They turned and watched Bustopher hit his invisible golf ball off-stage.

"Yup." With the first Macavity scared, they exchanged glances. "Behind the stage, ten seconds." Jordan hissed, before darting off to weave around his wife's slender body, before racing off the stage in one direction.

Menke shook his head with a sigh, lunging off in the other direction.

In the distance, he vaguely registered the fact that Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser singing their songs in broad Irish and Scottish accents had to be one of the funniest things he had heard for a long time.

"You!" 

A hand shot out from the edge of the stage, catching him by the front of the unitard and hauling him behind the stage with a sound that sounded strangely like "Whulp!" It turned rapidly into a squeak of fright when Jordan and Rachel loomed out of the darkness.

"You challenged us, eh?" Rachel murmured silkily, a wicked smile on her face.

"Uh..."

"Not backing out now?" Jordan raised a brow.

Menke raised a single finger, pointing at one of them, then the other. "But you...I thought I was just challenging one..."

"Wuss." The blue-eyed woman purred, twining one of her lean legs around her husband's.

"I am not a wuss!" He exclaimed weakly.

The couple exchanged a suggestive look that made him regret saying those words, then Jordan turned back to him, ignoring his wife nuzzling at his neck. "Does that mean you want to accept the challenge?"

"That...depends."

"Told ya," Rachel breathed against Jordan's throat, her eyes sparkling. "Wuss."

"Well, if I knew what the challenge was..."

This time, Jordan _really_ smiled and the expression made Menke cower back even further against the back of the set. "It's nothing really." He replied, his voice as casual as ever. "Merely a trifle..."

"Nothing special." Rachel added.

"At all." Jordan agreed softly, turning to claim a light brush of a kiss from his wife. Menke was sure he saw two tongue studs interlocking. In a blink, both of them turned back to him in the same motion, both staring intently at him. "We say we can get more applause than you can at final bows."

"WHAT?!?"

Both of them clapped a hand over his mouth sharply, both frowning. "Not so loud, Menke."

"Mits bjust dat..." He pulled their hands from his mouth. "It's just that you know that's never going to happen. I mean," He gave them his trademarked cocky grin, his green eyes glinting with glee. "I'm too damn good and the fans know me."

Jordan and Rachel stared at him, in true Coricopat and Tantomile style. "I think he's feeling over-confident, dear." The wife breathed, both of them taking a foreboding step closer towards the increasingly nervous Menke.

"Well, he hasn't seen us in competitive mode, has he?" The husband murmured, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"So...if I accept, what does it entail?"

"Well, the more amusing things you do, the more people will notice and applaud. In other words, we have to out-amuse the audience." Menke suddenly grinned at him. "You think you can do it?"

Ruffling his wig, Menke's grin widened. "You are talking to the King of Kittens."

"So you accept?"

"Duh!"

On cue, they separated to race out around the set, to get back on stage to cut of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser, Jordan and Rachel blocking their escape path, then sinking down on their knees at the front of the stage. 

"Poor twit." Jordan muttered, nuzzling his wife. "He doesn't know what he's let himself in for."

Together, both of them turned their heads – at the same angle no less – and smirked in the direction of the green-eyed dancer.

Menke, though, was oblivious. 

Crouching behind the fourth row of the moving platform, he blew a cold hiss in Annie's ear to get her attention. The artist squealed loudly, both her and her friends jumping in surprise when Menke's face popped over the back of the seat.

"You git!" 

"You gotta applaud loud for me." He muttered, before head-rubbing each of them and sprinting back onto the stage. The three women stared at him, the third of their number cocking her head at the dancer.

"Who was that?" She asked quietly.

"Menke Strep...you wrote about him, remember."

The brunette girl sitting next to her nodded, with a grin. "I just didn't recognise him in that make-up." She murmured, applauding Jonny and Jenni. "What idiot put him in the role of George Bailey?"

"I really don't wanna know..." Annie muttered. "He was one helluva cute Victor, though."

"And them?"

"Them?" Maria inquired.

Leaning forward, Cara pointed to just beyond the end of the row. Annie looked around, almost jumping into Cara's lap in fright. Georgina and Steffi were sitting there, staring at them, as the rest of the cast finished the chase sequence with Jonny and Jenni.

"Bloody hell!" Annie groaned, shaking her head, one hand to her heart. Both girls grinned at her, before running onto the stage.

Only then did all attention hit the front of the stage.

Malcolm rose with a breathy whisper. "Old Deuteronomy." He turned to Jordan and Rachel and actually blinked and rubbed his eye in disbelief. The couple were wrapped up in each others arms, nuzzling each other.

In sync with one another, they rose, their bodies seeming practically moulded together. They performed a tandem body ripple as they straightened up, something that could only look that sexual when done on purpose. 

"I believe it is Old Deuteronomy." They purred in unison, sinking down again, still embracing one another.

At the back of the stage, Menke stared in shock.

They were going to do kitty porn live! That was their secret for getting all the applause! They were going to go as far as they could without being fired and get all the applause and cheering and he...wouldn't!

He would have to come up with a new plan.

Something bold. 

Something dramatic. 

Something that no one else had tried.

Trouble was, he didn't have nearly enough money in his current bank account to bribe the whole audience...

The alternative wasn't up to much either.

He had nowhere to stash the couple's bodies, despite the temptation to use the star trap.

Low-flying Coricopat and Tantomile...

He almost snickered aloud at that, but it didn't solve his dilemma.

Frowning, he realised he would have to work on it a whole deal, but – then – he realised it was time Old Deuteronomy, so he had all the time he would need to come up with a suitably cunning scheme. 

***

"Hurry! Make ready!" Andy was jogging around the stage like a lunatic, pointed at random people. "Remember," He pointed to Blue, with a distinctly lewd wiggle of his hips. "What I... asked you to do."

Beneath her make-up, Blue went scarlet, ducking her head to hide her grin, remembering all too well what he had asked her to do. She also remembered what had followed, when she hadn't done it.

Apparently the blush was showing through her make-up. Tommy nudged her, raising a brow, with a suggestive leer. Blue returned the look, then nodded, grinning even more.

Tommy would be the only one who knew what the 'asked' was about, considering she had walked in on it. It went without saying that Andy's sounds of pain and mirth had caught her attention in the quiet flat.

She had entered the bedroom that the lovers shared, stopped short, stared mutely and then started giggling hysterically at the sight of Andy with his whole, naked, muscular body painted in Munkustrap colours. 

Andy have given her a prim smile, trying to silence another giggle fit, as his girlfriend carefully finished adding the correct colours of body paints ticklishly to all parts of his anatomy with a delicate brush.

There had been far too many jokes from the Oriental-looking dancer about how Munkustrap's tail seemed to be hanging... wrong. The offended 'tail' had then been given special attention so it and its owner wouldn't feel too upset.

It had taken six washes to get the grey and black marks out of the sheets, that day.

By the time Andy had decided to go and wash his guise off, most of it seemed to be either all over Blue, or all over the bed, carpet and – strangely – Tommy.

The whole routine, though, seemed to be going as usual, although the Victoria snuggled up on Old Deuteronomy's lap almost obscured the fuzzy-coated Jellicle Leader, who was peeking under a bulging arm.

It seemed wiser for him – Benjamin – not to attempt to dislodge the large – and much larger – dancer for the time being.

On the rest of the stage, everyone seemed to be behaving for the most part, although Munkustrap seemed to get continuously distracted by a small, gold and black-patterned person near the oven.

Until, of course, the moment came for Rumpus.

No one knew who was going to be on as the suicidal star-trap-user, since Tony said he couldn't do it for this show, because he had a bad neck-ache.

As soon as he popped up, though, everyone cracked up and recognised him instantly. After all, he was the first Rumpus to have a chocolate-coloured moustache.

Erupting from the star trap, facing the back of the stage, instead of the front, Rumpus stretched out his arms and – in doing so – spread his red cape, a wide, insane grin on his masked face. A Superman-styled 'R' was sewn on the back.

He had to be tapped on the back, before he realised he was facing the wrong way. 

Looking over his shoulder, he pretended that he knew he was facing the wrong way and did an extremely flamboyant bow with his cape, as he twirled around, flinging his arms wide again, making the whole cast double over hysterically.

Over the unitard, he had a pair of sequin-covered knickers.

"His eyes were like fireballs," Andy began, as Rumpus ignored him and starting dusting himself down, straightening his knickers and cape. "Ahem?" Menke looked up, red eyes glowing, grinned, then went back to fiddling with his knickers. "Fearfully blazing."

As the pollicles cowered around them, Menke lifted his right leg as high as he could, which was pretty much at the level of his head. He was still smoothing the wrinkles in the costume, shaking his head, when Andy gave him a poke.

"He gave a great yawn..." Andy prompted, motioning with his hand for Menke to yawn. Menke blinked at him, pointing at his mouth, checking what he was meant to do, then yawning. "And his jaws were amazing." 

Rumpus looked delighted at the commendation and bit the front of Munkustrap's wig to show his joy at this.

Swatting Rumpus away, Munkustrap sighed, smoothing his wig and continuing. "And when he looked out of the bars of the area..." Rumpus bent down and peeked through Munkustrap's legs. "You never saw anything..."

Rumpus hit his head on Munkustrap's tail and leaped up into Munkustrap's arms with a girly shriek of terror. Andy looked down at him, then around at the audience. "Fiercer," He remarked heavily, dropping Menke. 

On impact on the floor, Menke made the wig spring upright.

"Or hairier!" Andy leapt back a step, as if in shock at the sight of the horrendous thing on the black-clad dancer's head. Menke grinned, leaping to his feet and waving his bewigged head around like someone would at a Punk Concert.

Munkustrap's expression was one of sheer morbid fascination and he finally caught Rumpus by the scruff of his neck.

"And what with glare of his eyes and his yawning," He lectured, holding the yowling Rumpus cat in a headlock. "The Pekes and the Pollicles," All of whom were currently rolling around the stage in hysterics. "Quickly took warning. He looked at the skies and he gave a great leap and they every last one of them scattered like sheep!"

Immediately they took warning, as Rumpus broke free and ran to the back of the stage.

However, what they didn't count on was Rumpus starting to do a super-hero equivalent of the Conjuring Turn right in front of the tyre, his scarlet cape flaring around him and his knickers glittering in the spotlight.

At the front of the stage, Andy froze, staring in astonishment.

The departing Pekes and Pollicles stopped to stare. 

The music stopped. 

Everything halted.

And Menke kept right on spinning.

No one could say who it was who started it, but someone began to clap in time with the rhythmic spins and soon, every member of the cast had joined in and the majority of the audience had as well.

He was somewhere in the thirties, when he deliberately tripped over his tail, went into a forward somersault then handspring and motioned for Andy to continue with the song, with an imperious wave of his hand.

Struggling through the end of the song, staring at Menke with a new sense of awe, Andy couldn't help being relieved when the be-knickered superhero finally took leave of the stage for the beginning of The Jellicle Ball.

***

"You know," Rachel murmured to her husband. "We're gonna lose."

"Big time." He agreed glumly.

"Unless..."

He raised a brow. "You don't think that's a bit much?"

"Probably." He grinned. "But if we catch them, then..."

"We get more applause than anyone!"

"Well...almost."

"Where were they sitting?"

"D row, right side."

***

"Annie," Cara nudged her neighbour. Annie glanced at her. "Are they meant to be doing that?"

" Is who meant to be doing what?" Cara surreptitiously pointed at the mattress that was half-concealed by the bicycle tyre, where Tantomile was lying on her back, Coricopat leaning over her body, their arms around each other.

Annie and Maria both stared in shock, as Tantomile's left leg wrapped around Coricapt's hip, pulling him closer to her. "Good thing there are no kids on this side of the platform." Maria managed to whisper.

In unison, both of the couple turned to three women in the back row of the platform, small, sensual smiles on their lips. Tantomile's arms – over Coricopat's shoulders – slid back down, her fingers hooking into his upper back, as she arched beneath him. "Oh God..." Annie whimpered.

With a steamy nuzzle, Coricopat slid smoothly off his mate and the mattress, extending a hand for her to join him and – once again – they began their peculiarly sensual tango motion across the stage to their places.

"Didn't need to see that..." Maria mumbled. "So didn't need to see that."

"I thought it was...kinky. Especially the look on her face...did you see the look on her face when he did...er...that thing?" Cara put in with a mischievous grin. "What was wrong with it? Did it give you ideas or something?"

"Just shut up." Annie mumbled huffily, her fingers itching to reach down and grab her sketchpad and pencils. Cara snickered

The three of them turned their attention back to the stage and didn't see a tall striped figure making his escape off one side, until a fuzzy wig brushed against Annie's cheek and she turned to come face-to-face with Munkustrap.

A feeble "Meep?" escaped her.

"See you at intermission?" He murmured under his breath, looking at her from beneath hooded lids, his lips barely moving, a small suggestion of a smile on his lips. Annie nodded, shakily reaching up to ruffle the wig, having never been so close to him in costume.

Luckily, he quickly straightened up and raced away before she grabbed him around the neck and hauled him over the back of her chair and into her lap.

"Cute." Cara remarked with an approving nod.

"You haven't seen him outta make-up." Maria confided with a wicked grin.

"And we got us a date at intermission." Annie added softly, her eyes dancing.

Andy looked back at them with a broad smile, making sure he had their attention. They watched him dart onto the stage, joining in the initial part of the ball, dancing along with the rest of his friends.

Somehow, he, Antoine, Malcolm, Raymond and Menke all managed to make it to the girls' side of the stage, even though they were no where near their regular positions in the routine, and a row of pert, muscular derrieres were wiggled provocatively in the direction of the grinning trio.

"Can we touch 'em?" Cara hissed, with a wicked grin. "I'm pretty sure I could jump over this lot." She nodded to the three rows in front of her, her hands braced on the arms of her chair.

Annie and Maria both hurriedly made certain that they both had a secure grip on the younger woman's arm, to hold her back from launching herself at the row of wiggling totties just ahead of them.

On the stage, the guys looked back at them and just smirked, before spreading out for the rest of the routine.

***

"This is going to be interesting." Andy murmured to Antoine, as they sank down at the back of the stage in the lead up for the group snuggle. Antoine nodded, snickering, as Raymond took centre stage as Victoria.

He played coy, as many of the normal Victorias did, but the technicality none of them seemed to have thought about was the fact that the biggest man in the cast now needed someone to do a lift for him.

Not many were surprised when Malcolm gracefully rose to his feet and approached, giving the posing 'Victoria' an approving nod.

However, when he tried to lift Raymond at the waist, there was more than one loud snigger from the group surrounding them.

That snigger got louder as he bent and pushed his shoulder against Raymond's derriere in an attempt to lift him. It only got worse after that as he bent and stuck his head between Raymond's legs, trying to attempt to lift him on his shoulders.

Clearly surprised at this maltreatment, Raymond huffily turned round and bapped Malcolm on the head, before turning away and crossing his arms over his chest. Malcolm peered at him, then appeared to get an idea.

Reaching forward, he grabbed Raymond's tail, gave it a tug. Raymond tottered back a step, unresisting, but pulled a face over his shoulder.

Malcolm took that as a positive thing and threw all his weight back, pulling Raymond by the tail. He seemed to trip over someone and landed in a heap, then yelped aloud as Raymond cheerfully fell over on top of him.

That cued the group snuggle to take place and Andy found Blue timidly hiding at the side of the stage and – knowing that Annie and Company were watching – he gently drew into his arms and performed the kind of snuggle illegal anywhere but the porn channels.

His hand clasped her rear. Her hand lifted his hand from her rear. His hand closed over her breast. Her hand pushed it away. His hand grabbed at...somewhere else. She squealed in surprise and embarrassment, making half the snuggle pile crack up.

Shooting a glare over her shoulder at him, she managed a muffled sound of surprised as he actually sought out her lips with his own, holding her close. 

It was a wonder that they actually got moving for the rest of the routine, considering the grip he had on her.

But they got started, the music pounding in their ears, their hearts racing.

The Ball was in full flow, most people in their regular position and performing their regular roles, although Blue did something she had not done since she had received the upgrade from Etcetera to Demeter.

Running down the row at the left side of the auditorium, to the end of J row, she adjusted her gloves and looked up at Andy. He was staring at her in disbelief that she would do that part of her routine when she was meant to be the adult cat.

With a flirtatious wink, she threw herself forward into a run of flips that went right around the aisle that circled all the way around the auditorium. She vaguely noticed the chorus of cheers from the known fans, as she sprinted up the ramp and spun to a halt in Munkustrap's arms.

"You're nuts, love." Andy murmured against her neck, his arms practically concealing his petite lover from sight.

Blue chuckled. "And you're surprised by this how?" 

"Just shut up and snuggle me." Andy mumbled.

His little girlfriend reached up to massage the back of his neck with her fingertips. "Not too difficult, eh?" She smiled, drawing his head down to brush her wig against the front of his.

"I think I can live with it." He gave her a wink before lunging back into the routine.

***

"Did she still have it on her back?"

Standing in the wings, Antoine looked around at Tommy, grinning. "Not just something on the back now, Tommy-gal." He replied, nodding towards the stage, where Helen was tottering in random circles, trying to shake something off the heel of her shoe.

"What the…?"

"Is that what I think it is?" Geeta demanded, peering around Tommy, her arm around the taller dancer's waist.

"Bog roll." Antoine nodded, still grinning.

"Pink bog roll." Tommy added, staring incredulously as Raymond, as Victoria, pounced after the long strand of bright pink toilet paper that had somehow snagged on the heel of the Glamour Cat's shoe.

Geeta snickered. "Just as long as they don't start singing about how Grizabella the Glamour Shat…"

"Oh God…"Tommy groaned, shaking her head. "Heaven preserve us."

Antoine gave her a small smirk. "And just think, Tom, things are only going to get worse from here on in."

A loud and somewhat rude expletive from the tall dancer with interesting inclusions of what someone could do to a roast chicken on a Sunday dinner table meant all the group had to run to avoid being spotted by the audience, when they burst out laughing.


	16. The Cast - Part 16 - Changeover: Act 2

"Menke, a word..."

Looking around at the frantic-looking stage manager, Menke motioned for his friends to go ahead of him. "What is it?"

"You need to pull in for another role in the second half." Maureen Lewis replied. Her sandy, grey-streaked hair was scraped back in a grim ponytail, which made her features look more severe than usual. "Tony hurt his leg during the Ball and won't be able to finish tonight."

Menke tried to make his mouth work, his tongue feeling like a rock. "You..." He cleared his throat several times. "You want me to be...Macavity?"

"Could you play the role? The lists said you should be able to..."

A look of panic crossed the dancer's face. Yes, he knew the fight routine backwards, but it was the thought of playing Macavity. The role he had managed to avoid for all of his many months as Munkustrap.

"I-I-I...isn't there someone else?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Andy..." It was desperation, he knew. His voice was a bare squeak. "Andy could play him..."

"Andy is Munk." Maureen gave him an apologetic look, spreading her hands helplessly. She had been there, when he and his wife had gone through that...rough patch, so she knew vaguely why he had a phobia of the word 'Mac' in any form. "We really need you Menke."

A ragged breath escaped him. "I-I-I-I..." He realised his warmer-covered hands were shaking when he brought them up to cover his face. "God...I never thought I'd have to do him..." His voice seemed to be barely a croak. "I-I need to phone Demi..."

Maureen watched him sprint away up the hall with a pitying look then shook her head. Turning to walk back to her office, she yelled aloud and clutched at her chest at the sight of Jordan and Rachel standing there, staring after Menke.

"What's wrong with him?" Rachel demanded.

"He's playing Mac for the fight. Tony went and did his ankle in."

"Macavity..." Jordan repeated softly, looking away from the hall, his stoic face marred with lines of thought. "I think we might have to...cancel our bet with him, Rach." He murmured. "It would only be fair, considering..."

"I was thinking that."

***

"Hello ladies." Andy opened the door of the green room, to let Annie, Maria and Cara into the normally deserted room. The trio stopped short, gaping in surprise. There were five cast members waiting for them.

Well, technically.

Two were clearly not waiting for anyone.

On one of the chairs against the wall, the massive figure of Victoria was sitting and, on his/her lap, a skinny Mistoffelees had his arms around the white cat's neck and they looked like they didn't intend to come up for air any time soon.

"Hi Ray." Annie remarked with amusement. A white-warmered hand rose, waving behind Malcolm's back. The artist chuckled, turning to the other three dancers. "Is there any reason that they're spending intermission smooching each other?"

Andy nodded. "Apparently Mal's trying to give up smoking." He shrugged with a grin. "And the logic is that if he has Ray's tongue keeping his mouth busy, his can't have a cigarette in there as well."

Maria nodded. "Makes sense." 

Raising a hand, Cara inquired. "Does it work, then?" Malcolm's warmered hands jutted out to the sides, revealing no cigarettes. "Nice...I'll have to suggest that technique to my flatmate. I don't think her boyfriend would object."

Annie glanced around at the quintet, then grinned. "I was wondering if the show could possibly get any crazier."

Blue gave her an angelic look. "We have no idea what you mean."

"So, how are you keeping straight faces?" The dark-haired artist asked.

Tommy looked up from the tip of her cigarette. She was leaning against the mirrored wall, one arm crossed over her chest. "Me?" She raised a brow, then blew out a stream of smoke. "I just think of Kashka and that gets rid of the grins."

"I didn't see either of you with a straight face at any time." Andy shook his head with a sigh of mock indignation. "Tommy, you're telling fibs again. Its very bad of you." He took a drink from a plastic cup on the table. "So, ladies, you want photos?"

"Are we allowed?" Cara asked hopefully.

"Don't see anyone to stop us." Andy grinned. "By the way, I don't think we got your name."

"Cara."

Blue cocked her head at the shortest of the trio. She had been trying to get smudges off her gloves when they entered and apparently had just given up. "Cara...you're the one who gave George Bailey his name, aren't you?"

"Sort of, maybe...you could say that..."

The shortest of the dancers nodded. "Menke did mention you when he told me who he was playing tonight."

"Speaking of Menke, where is the great git?" Tommy straightened up. "It's not like him to miss a Lawson photo session, is it? And especially when the person who named his chocolate-gobbed character is here."

Annie shrugged. "Maybe he forgot." She offered.

"How about I go and drag his bony butt down here?" The red-garbed dancer said, squashing her cigarette into the ashtray on the table beside Raymond and Malcolm. "He'll be pissed if he knows he missed the photo session."

"You do that and we'll use up their films, Tom." Blue grinned, bouncing over to Andy's side and looping her arm around his waist. "After all, Munkustrap and Demeter are meant to be the most famous Jellicle couple and you have the cutest examples of them right here."

Tommy rolled her eyes expressively. "Kid, you really have to work on that modesty thing, y'know." She remarked dryly. "Oh, and ladies, not too many pictures of Raymond and Malcolm. Yeah, they're cute together, but still. Have to keep some film for the most gorgeous person present." She gave them a smoky smile. "I'm sure you know who I mean."

As she disappeared through the door, Andy nodded. "Yep! Make sure you use all those photos on the most gorgeous person present." He struck a dramatic pose. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Don't encourage him." Blue groaned, shaking her head. "It'll only make him worse."

Annie, Maria and Cara, though, were staring at Andy with a combination of amusement and sheer horror. He had started gyrating in a way only a stripper could get away with, and was cheerfully singing. "I'm too sexy for my stripes, too sexy for my stripes..."

"Oh...dear..." Was the only response Cara could come up with.

***

"Demi?"

"Hello! This is Demi Strep. Whose speaking?" There was a pause on the other end of the line. He tried to speak, but his lips wouldn't move. "Menke?" Trust Demi to know. "Is that you? I thought you were on just now?"

"I'm playing Mac..." His voice was a choked whisper.

"Menke?" He could hear the concern in his wife's voice. "What was that? You'll have to speak up. I can't hear you."

He drew a shaking breath, swallowing hard. "I'm playing Mac." He repeated, a little – but barely – louder, mechanically. He heard her gasp, hugging his knees close to his chest, tears pricking in his eyes. "Demi... I can't...it...I can't..."

"Oh God...love, do you want me to come up there? It would take me a while, but I could..."

"I can't do it, Dem." He repeated, shivering. "I can't..."

"Isn't there someone else?"

"No one...I can't..." His face was buried in his left arm, his right hand shaking as he held his phone hard against his ear. His voice was muffled by the warmer, heavy with tears. "Dem... there's no one... I can't...I'm scared..." 

"I know, love. I know." He could see her chewing her lower lip, trying to decide what to do, what to say. "Munk, you're just pretending...it's just a role..." Her voice was shaking too. No matter how strong she was, that still scared her.

"But he...Dem...I can't...I keep remembering...his face...what he did..." A choked sob escaped the dancer, his body rocking on his seat. His trembling fingers were spasmodically tugging at his fluffy wig. "I try to forget...I try...but I can't..."

"I know, love." There was a long silence. "I wish I could be there to help, Munk. I really wish I wasn't stuck here." Menke tried to quell another sob, but failed. "Love, can you find someone who knows? Someone who can help? Is Phil...?"

"There's no one..." His voice had taken a hysterical note and he buried his tear-soaked face in his warmered hand. "Dem, I don't like this...I really...its bad, Dem...no one knows...no one can help... no one can play..."

"Knock knock!" A voice spoke from the door of the dressing room, a second before a face peeked around. Menke froze, staring at Tommy in panic, his warmer-covered left fist pressed under his nose, against his mouth. "Uh...Menke?"

"Love, who is it?" Demi's voice rang in his ear. 

"Tommy..." He tried to force a smile, but ended up with his face buried in his arms. "Oh God, oh God, oh God..."

The red-clad dancer was by his side in a heartbeat. "Menke? Sweetie? What is it?" She knelt down next to his seat, wrapping her arms around him comfortingly. "Is it bad news? Is something wrong?" He proffered the phone to her, pressing against her with silent sobs. A concerned look on her face, she took the phone. "Hello? Is someone there?"

"Tommy? Thank god!"

"Demi?"

"Yeah. Is Menke okay?"

Tommy looked down at the dancer who was clinging to her and weeping soundlessly. "If you mean, is he crying his eyes out and looking completely terrified of something, then I guess you could say he's okay." She paused, kissing Menke's forehead, stroking his back reassuringly. "Demi, what the hell's yanked his chain to get him this worked up?"

"He has to play Mac in the second half."

"Play Mac?" A puzzled look crossed the tall dancer's face, then her eyes widened, recalling something she had heard from friends, several years before. "Dem, you and Menke...were you that couple a few years back...the one with that McCafferty guy?"

Demi's laugh sounded strained. "Yeah..."

"God...I didn't know, Dem. I'm sorry." She murmured. "So that's what got him all worked up? The similarities?"

"Menke's had a phobia of red-haired males since then." The dancer's wife replied quietly. "And the name Macavity it's too close for his liking." Tommy continued to stroke Menke's back soothingly. "Apparently there's no one else who can play him..."

"I'll try and get him up and running again, Dem." Tommy said softly, brushing a hand over Menke's wig. "I'll make sure he gets through the rest of tonight, as long as you get here to get him after the show

"Will do, Tommy." Demi replied. "Thanks. Can I say bye to him?"

"Menke, Demi wants to talk to ya..."

Green eyes looked up and he took the phone. "Dem?"

"Love, Tommy says she'll look after you, since I can't be there, okay?" Menke nodded, his eyes closed. "You know she won't let anyone hurt you and I'll be there right after the show to take you home with me."

"Love you, Dem."

"Love you too, Munk."

The phone slipped from his trembling fingers and would have hit the floor if Tommy hadn't caught it first. Placing it aside, she gently steered Menke's knees down from his chest, rising and settling in his lap and hugging him, his head against her shoulder.

"You okay in there?" She murmured, lifting his face to hers. 

Green eyes blinked up at her. "Tom..."

"You got me, baby." She touched another soft kiss to his forehead, then a gentle one to his lips. "I told your pretty lady I'd look after you until she gets here and I intend to do just that, whether you like it or not."

Menke smiled weakly. "Thanks."

"And you're goin' on as Mac." He went rigid, shaking his head. "Menke, sweetie, listen to me, okay?" He looked up at her, his green eyes full of terror. "You have to do this. How else are you gonna prove that you're stronger than the bastard who hurt you?"

"You don't understand, Tom...you don't know what its like..."

"Well, why don't we go and ask Blue then? She knows what it's like, so maybe she could tell me." She suggested softly. "At least your guy's locked up now. Her's could still end up free, but she's willing to face that and go on." She gently pressed little kisses all over his face. "You have to do this, Menke. You know this shows going to be a special one."

He nodded. "But there has to be someone else..."

"Menke, you just played the Rumpus rat. If you can play him, you can play anyone!" Menke laughed weakly, hugging her. She smiled and pressed a warm kiss against his mouth, holding him reassuringly.

They were still sitting like that when Rachel and Jordan edged into the room. The couple exchanged looks, then Jordan cleared his throat. "Menke," He said softly, as Menke laid his head against Tommy's shoulder and looked over. "We've come to say you can cancel the bet if you like. We know you're at a disadvantage, playing Mac."

"Huh?"

"Well, you don't wanna play him...we don't want you forcing yourself to do something that you don't like for the sake of a bet."

"You're chickening out." While still shaky, Menke's voice seemed a little clearer and Tommy smirked against his brow, his arms around her waist.

"I beg your pardon?" Jordan raised a brow.

Menke flashed a broad grin at them. "You know I'm going to win hands down, so you're backing out in a way that looks like its for my benefit, but its only cos you can't face trying to beat the Master."

"That isn't it at all!" Rachel cried.

"Uh huh." Menke rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his left hand, his right arm still around Tommy's waist. "Sorry, chap and chapette, but no chance. The bets still on and I'm gonna show you the best freakin' Mac you've ever seen." His words were punctuated with sniffs, but he was smiling.

Jordan's face rippled into an expression of caution. "You don't want to be challenging us any more, Menke." He advised, his eyes narrowed, but there was a twinkle of mirth there that was mirrored in his wife's expression.

"You don't want to know how mean the dark twins can get." Rachel added grimly, giving the green-eyed dancer a pointed stare.

Menke sucked on his lower lip, widening his eyes, a gormless expression on his face. "Oh, I'm so scared!"

"Hon," Tommy cooed, rubbing his chest fondly. "I don't think you want to be challengin' those two." She looked at his smudged face. "Especially when your make-up looks even worse than it did before."

"Oh no!" Menke stood, tipping her onto the floor with a yell. He yelped in pain as she gripped his rear, trying to stop herself falling and ending up dangling two inches above the floor. Her arms around her waist and legs around his right thigh, she gave him a winning grin, before dropping in a heap at his feet. "Hey! This is a first!" He remarked, grinning broadly. "I made a lesbian fall at my feet. I am getting good!"

Rachel and Jordan exchanged looks. "Heaven help us." Rachel muttered, before they both turned in unison and slinked back out of the door, leaving Tommy laughing on the floor and Menke grinning triumphantly, as he tidied his make-up.

***

"Where the heck is that boy?" Antoine was pacing behind the stage, shaking his head. He had seen Menke dart off towards the dressing rooms, but the tall dancer had insisted that he didn't need anyone to look after him.

"If you're talking about Menke," Jordan seemed to merge out of the darkness at the side of the stage, his wife seeming to have melded to his side. "He's just cleaning up his make-up for the second half."

Behind his perfect orange, brown and white Skimbleshanks make-up, Antoine's concern was apparent. "Explain." He said quietly.

"He's playing Macavity, on for Tony." Rachel said. 

Antoine's eyes narrowed. "They're putting him on as Macavity? Are they trying to make him lose the plot?" 

There was a sound of pairs of running feet from behind them and Antoine and the identical couple turned as one to see Menke scrambling around pieces of the set, Tommy running behind him.

"Scuse me." He dodged passed them, darting in the direction of the green room, the red-garbed dancer giving them a helpless shrug and grin, as she trailed behind him.

"He seems all right..." Antoine looked at his companions. "Why does he seem all right? Did someone give him a happy pill or something?"

"Well..." Jordan began.

"We might have..."

"Sort of..."

"Made a bet with him..."

"And he..."

Antoine groaned. "He doesn't want to lose it, cos he's stubborn son of a bitch." He nodded. "I should have known. Even if there was a risk of him getting killed doing something, he could never resist if someone made a bet with him to do it."

Identical calico faces stared expressionlessly out of the shadowy darkness at him, knowing expressions in their eyes.

The bleach-blonde dancer looked from one neutral, perfectly made-up face to the other. "You know," He remarked heavily. "I'm feeling distinctly stupid that I thought that either of you hadn't thought of that."

"Hmm." The two murmured as one, nodding wisely.

Shaking his head, the French-Irish dancer rolled his eyes. "And you know I hate it when you do that." He grumbled, receiving another bland, impassive stare from the couple. Uttering a very rude expletive under his breath, he stomped off.

Jordan and Rachel exchanged grins. "We are too good at this, love." Rachel said, giving her husband a warm embrace.

"And they don't mess with the best." Jordan agreed with a chuckle. "C'mon, love, let's go and scare some random audience members."

***

"Sorry I'm late!" Blue, Andy, Raymond, Malcolm and the three young women looked around at in surprise. Menke stood there, grinning weakly, his hand braced against the doorframe. "Just had to go ring Demi."

"Ring Demi? During a show?" Annie took a step towards him. "Menke, are you all right?"

"Yeah..." He tried to smile, but his lip trembled. Clearing his throat, he tried to force the words out. "I'm fine..." His voice shook, then broke and Annie had wrapped him up in her arms in less than three heartbeats.

Annie ran a hand over his wigged head. "Menke?"

"I'm playing Mac...me..." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stem his tears. "Ironic, isn't it?"

The artist closed her eyes in sympathy, hugging the dancer a little tighter. "You'll do great, Menke." She murmured. "You always do."

"But I look awful as a red head." He mumbled. "I tried it once when I was sixteen...my mum said I looked like a bloody carrot..."

"A cute carrot, though." Annie teased gently.

Tommy stepped into the room behind him, closing the door behind him. "You gonna be okay, Menke?" She asked softly, touching his back. "We can't afford to have you smudging your make-up again."

"That's all you care about, isn't it? Me looking cuter than usual." He choked out a raw laugh, straightening up and dabbing at his eyes with his warmers. His arm still around Annie, he looked around. "Well...cameras..."

Annie's two companions were staring at him with a combination of concern and worry. "Are you sure you're okay, Mister Strep?" Cara inquired nervously. 

"Yuh-huh...fine..." He nodded, sniffing hard. He forced a broad, deceptively happy smile onto his face. "Now, are you going to take pictures of me, or am I going to have to throw a Diva fit before you give me attention?"

"And me! And me!" Giving Annie a nudge out of the way, Tommy wrapped herself around Menke's body. "I wanna have a picture that'll make Demi get jealous!" Saying that, she sealed her lips over Menke's the dancer's green eyes going wide with astonishment.

Everyone in the room looked as stunned as he did.

Breaking out of the kiss, Tommy looked around at them in annoyance. "Hey! I kissed a straight guy." She grumbled in irritation, still holding onto Menke. "I don't do it very often. You're meant to take photos as evidence." 

"Uh...right..." Annie managed to dig out her camera, then grinned wickedly at Menke. "The look on your face was priceless." She snickered.

Menke stuck his tongue out at her, as Tommy slinked past him. "You try being pounced by a rampant lesbian with a tongue that seems to have a mind of it's own!" 

"Oh, I would deal better, Menke. I can..." Annie started to reply, then managed to utter a feeble squeak of terror as Tommy grabbed her. Maria and Cara shrieked with laughter, quickly snapping a photo each as photographic evidence for Phil.

The red-clad dancer released the artist and stepped back, smirking. Licking her teeth, she gave Annie a suggestive look. "Maybe I should've got to you before Phil did, Annie...maybe I could've converted ya..."

"No!" 

Tommy's brow rose. "Oh?"

"I like my men like...well...men."

The Oriental-looking dancer heaved a heavy sigh. "There always has to be one who has to resist my charms." She shook her head, then looked towards the door. "Y'know, from the sound of it, its time for you to get back to your seats."

Something was going on in the auditorium and whatever it was, it was making a large portion of the audience crack up.

"Eep!"

"We'll see you guys later!"

"Bye!"

The trio hastily fled out of the door, running back towards their waiting seats. As soon as they were all gone, Tommy looked around at the group. "So, ladies and...ladies, shall we adjourn to the stage?"

"Don't see why not." Menke replied as he carefully dabbed at his eyes and nose with a tissue from the box on the table, beside which Malcolm was letting Raymond tidy up his slightly smudged make-up. "Do I look okay?"

"Beautiful, handsome." Raymond replied, checking his own image in the mirror. 

Somehow, his white make-up had remained intact and unsmudged, while Malcolm ended up with pink lipstick marks all over his face and neck.

"C'mon, people!" Blue was already bouncing on her toes at the door. "Everyone else is almost on already!"

"Comin', girlfriend." Raymond stood, gently depositing Malcolm on his feet. "Menke, hon, you comin' out?"

The green-eyed dancer nodded. "I'll catch up with you guys." He saw the worried look on Tommy's face. "I'll be okay, Tom." He tried to sound convincing. "Just need to tidy up my face again. I left half of it on Annie's shoulder." Nodding towards the door, he motioned for them to leave. "Go on. Jamieson'll kill you if you're all missing."

Reluctantly, the group slipped out, Tommy the last to leave. She paused and gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll see you up on the mattress, sweetie." She murmured. "Don't get lost on the way."

***

On stage, it quickly became clear what the source of mirth was. Coricopat and Tantomile had started their crawl around the perimeter of the stage, sliding along the surface of the stage smoothly, their hips dipping and rolling erotically.

The comedy of the moment, though, was provided by Jonny and Jenni, as Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser, who were crawling along behind the two Calicos, trying to mimic the subtle, sensual movements the couple were making.

However, the tiger twins didn't quite have the grace and smoothness that the two dark felines did and only succeeded in looking like they were trying to hump the stage without actually touching it.

They were also trying to avoid being spotted by Coricopat and Tantomile who, at random intervals, whipped around and stared at them, meaning Jonny and Jenni froze, mid-movement, and pretended to be admiring the set and scenery.

Biting on her lower lip, Jenni leaned back to look up at ceiling, pointing out spots of it to Jonny, who nodded in wise admiration, until the dark pair went back to crawling again.

Immediately, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser were on the move again, bobbing along on their hands and knees enthusiastically, their derrieres waving in the air, in sync with one another.

They got so caught up in the audience's laughter that they didn't notice that Jordan and Rachel had actually stopped moving by the car boot, until they ran squarely into the backs of the two severe looking characters.

With a squeak of panic, Jenni leap-frogged over Jonny to hide behind him, as Coricopat hissed at them, his arm going protectively around Tantomile, who had just risen to her feet. His brow pressed against her thigh and she bent over him, her face above his, both staring implacably at the tiger twins.

Jonny and Jenni exchanged glances over Jonny's shoulder, then struck an identical pose to the other pair, only each of them stuck a leg up in the air at an odd angle, pulling faces at the two dark calicos.

It would have been almost impressive, except that Etcetera and Carbucketty came barreling across the stage, collided with Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser and the whole lot of them went tumbling in a pile of flailing limbs.

Smug looks crossed the matching, expressionless faces of Coricopat and Tantomile and they turned and slinked their way up the car, shaking their derrieres in the direction of the fallen pile of colourful kittens.

Climbing out of the pile, Steffi did a backwards somersault across the stage, tumbling onto her back near the tyre and grinning up at Benjamin, as Old Deuteronomy. Offering her a hand, he smiled as she bound up to nuzzle him, then darted back to the middle of the stage, tripping over Jonny and almost landing on top of Jenni.

A hissing fight rapidly followed, with the group swatting and yowling at each other, until Andy distracted them when he slinked onto the stage and he was promptly pounced on by a group of four squealing kittens.

At the bottom of the ramp her boyfriend had just walked up, oozing felinity, Blue was longing for a warmer to bite down on to smother her giggles. Kneeling in the aisle, she felt a hand tug her tail and looked around with a hiss of annoyance. 

A teenage girl behind her laughed in delight when the petite dancer clawed at her hand, then returned her attention to the stage, before crawling off up the ramp, her nose in the air, a dignified look on her face.

Pausing at the top of the ramp, where her lover was grooming Etcetera's ears, she gave him a sensual look, smiling as Steffi darted away. Crawling up in front of Andy, they shared a brief nuzzle, nudging their noses against each other.

Rubbing her wigged head under his chin, she arched beneath his hand as his fingers raked down her back. Brushing against him once more, she slinked off to her position for "The Moments of Happiness", stretching luxuriously and contorting her body in ways that made every member of the audience wince.

***

Edging out of the green room, his hands still shaking feverishly, Menke looked out towards the stage. Benjamin was just about to start singing and everyone else was motionless, so there was no chance of him making it onto the stage for the song.

Sinking onto his hands and knees, he slowly crawled alongside the barrier beside the final block of seating of the stalls, not including the sections on the moving platform, trying to calm his breathing.

As soon as Benjamin started singing, he edged forwards, peering warily around the edge of the barrier. Most people would be staring up at the stage, he knew, but he wanted to go as unnoticed as possible.

In a heartbeat, he smoothly lunged across the aisle, coming to a halt right next to Annie's seat without anyone noticing. On the stage, Raymond shifted, peering down at him, then looked away quickly when Menke nodded to him.

Kneeling down, his hands between his knees, he leaned against the side of the seat, closing his eyes. Out of sheer instinct, he lifted his left hand, the warmer obscuring his fingers, and rubbed at his eyes, wondering if any of the audience had even realised that he was there.

It took Annie several seconds longer to notice him than he expected.

Fingers scratched at his wig and he turned his head to stare sorrowfully up at her, his eyes looking enormous and dripping emotion. Three voices exclaimed "Awwww!" and were immediately shushed by people surrounding them.

Twisting his whole body everso slightly and shuffling forward until his knees touched the base of her seat, he rested his chin on the arm of Annie's chair, adopting his best lost kitten expression and receiving a pet on the head for it.

As Deuteronomy continued to sing, George Bailey received the petting of his life. He also continued to – unseen – ransack through Annie's open rucksack, which was just within hand's reach beneath the seat.

Annie finally looked away from him when he feigned boredom and the open flap of the backpack was carefully drawn out from beneath the seat, innocent little George Bailey exploring through the goodies he had found.

Picking up a pen from the heap, he examined it, drawing some giggles from the children in the central block of the stalls behind him. Next, he came across a can of deodorant and sniffed at it, pulling a face.

An object in a plastic wrapper caught his attention. 

Batting at it, he gave it a curious look – both as a cat and a human – then realised what it was and accidentally batted it a little too hard in his surprise, sending the tampon hurtling into the air and bouncing onto the stage, where it landed near Geeta, who released a loud snort of laughter, which was quickly echoed by Georgina.

Annie looked down, startled that the missile had come from her direction. Menke stared back up at her in shock and embarrassment, trying to smother a fit of laughter, but also biting on his lip to try and keep a straight face.

Both of his brows rose in a helpless look and he continued to shake with silent laughter, his eyes dancing, hastily shoving all of his toys back into her bag, muffled sniggers escaping him every few seconds.

He had never been more relieved for the beginning of Gus than he had been at that show, clambering up onto the stage and jumping quickly onto the mattress next to Tommy, who shook her head and grinned down at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

They both looked towards the middle of the stage, where John was gearing up for his final performance as Gus. Tommy's hand was moving absently on Menke's back and he glanced up at her, then nudged her hip.

Looking down, he motioned for her to bend a little closer, her wig brushing against his. Making sure no one was looking, he pushed his warmer up a little and something small, oblong and dark dropped onto the mattress, his green eyes finding hers, twinkling at the look of admiration in the dancer's eyes.

"Annie's?" She asked softly. Menke nodded, carefully shielding it with his warmer, as he pressed a button or two on it. "Silent?" Again, he nodded, rubbing his head against her arm, receiving a wig rub from her.

Lying down on her belly beside him on the broad mattress, her chin resting on his left shoulder, she looped her right leg over his left, his right twisting over both of them, her arm going across his waist.

With their eyes half-closed, as if put to sleep by John's rambling, they both regarded the small object concealed in Menke's hand, barely visible thanks to his warmers and her strategically-positioned arm.

A loud snigger escaped Tommy, her face hastily pressed against the rough fluff of Menke's shoulder to smother it, the older dancer's lips twitching as he tried to hold back a smile and pressed a button.

In the audience, both of them spotted Maria hastily reach down towards something on the floor, then reappear, holding something in her hand. Annie and Cara both looked at her, raising questioning eyebrows.

Maria frowned, looking at whatever she was holding, then showed it to Annie, who then ducked down and checked something on the floor. Straightening up, the dark-haired artist shook her head, a look of concern on her face.

Tommy nudged Menke, then motioned for him to hand her the small oblong object, their wigs pressed close together as she mimicked what he had just done, both of them nuzzling each other and ignoring puzzled looks around them.

A shrill giggle from Maria broke the silence as Jellylorum stopped singing and Gus started and she looked sidelong at Annie, then shot a look up at the stage. A broad smile crossed her face and she shook her head at Annie.

"You made it too obvious, Tom. She knows now." Menke murmured, nuzzling her neck. She chuckled throatily, rising on her knees to start grooming his fluffy wig. Her fingers scraped down his back and she bent to nuzzle his shoulder.

"Maria's in my pay, my dear." She breathed, grinning as he flipped onto his back and wagged his legs in the air, as she rubbed his belly.

Menke rolled his eyes, then rolled off the mattress, pretending not to notice that he was near the edge, as Gus went into his rant about kittens and landed on his back on the stage, his head peeking up, a surprised look on his face.

On the mattress, Tommy chuckled throatily and hauled the bemused-looking George Bailey back onto the mattress beside her.

***

"What did it say?"

Maria looked at her phone. "It says 'We're watching you-hoo' and there's no name." She deliberately ignored the fact that it also said something else: 'But will you please bloody well watch us, on the bed!'.

"Watching us?" Annie looked down at her bag, then up at Menke, who was lying on his back, enjoying a very thorough belly rub. He shot a look in her direction, to make sure she was watching him, sticking his tongue out at her. "Y'know, I thought maybe Menke had..."

"Where would he put it though?" Cara murmured, nodding to him. "Look at him. With all the flinging himself around that he does, it would go flying and you would have seen it by now if he had it."

"Maybe I left it in the hotel..."

"Yeah, it might not be your number." Maria agreed, trying not to grin. "Aww!"

Annie and Cara followed her line of sight to see Menke wrapping his arms around Tommy, his head rubbing against her side. Several more "Aww"s were added and were immediately shushed by people around them.

***

Around the edges and back of the stage, everyone had scattered off the stage in readiness for Growltiger, John Marquez left, standing alone in the middle of the deserted stage, finishing his Gus solo.

Behind the scenes, chaos was on-going.

Jordan strode past, straightening his Genghis head and looking for something. In the other direction, Georgina sprinted around anyone who happened to be in the way, waving her Siamese head that had somehow...broken.

The wardrobe mistress was having kittens. "Of all the nights that something could go wrong, it had to be this one!" She exclaimed, handing an extra fastener to Georgina, in the middle of trying to fasten up the jammed zipper on Antoine's costume.

Roberto, standing nearby, gave the stuffed bird on his shoulder a poke with his finger. "I wish to make a complaint."

"Sorry," Bent over with the wardrobe mistress almost sitting on his head, trying to yank his zip up, Antoine's voice was muffled. "We're closin' for lunch!"

"Never mind that, my lad." The Latino-looking dancer tapped him smartly on his head, trying not to grin, his voice a frighteningly accurate mimic of John Cleese's. "I wish to complain about this parrot, what I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique."

Antoine tilted his head slightly, peering around the Wardrobe Mistress' body. "Ah...yes...the Norwegian Blue..." He cleared his throat. "What's...ah...what's wrong with it?"

Roberto gave him a very dark look, then looked at the limp parrot flopped pathetically on his shoulder. "I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad." He stated grimly. "It's dead, that's what's wrong with it."

"No, no," Antoine protested, straightening up, ignoring the muted snickers of their friends around them. "'E's...ah...he's resting." 

Stepping close to Antoine, tapping him on the chest, Roberto gave him an indignant look. "Look, matey, I know a dead parrot when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now." 

Peering at the parrot closely, Antoine shook his head. "No no, h-he's not dead, he's...he's...restin'!"

"Restin'?" Both men looked up as the rest of the kittens tumbled over the back of the stage, joined quickly by Benjamin, to prepare for Growltiger. 

Antoine took the chance to back away, nodding vehemently and taking the wardrobe mistress with him. "Y-yeah, restin'." He repeated enthusiastically. "Remarkable bird, the Norwegian Blue, isn't it, eh? Beautiful plumage!"

Roberto stalked after him. "The plumage don't enter into it. It's stone dead!"

"Nononono, no, no! 'E's resting!" 

Reaching up, Roberto swatted the parrot. "Now that's what I call a dead parrot."

"No, no.... No, he's stunned."

"STUNNED?"

"Yeah!" Antoine stepped aside hurriedly as Menke hopped past, one foot waving in the air, cursing under his breath and colliding with anyone who happened to cross his path. "You stunned him, just as he was wakin' up! Norwegian Blues stun easily, major."

Roberto looked like he was about to explode, his eyes bulging. "Look my lad, I've had just about enough of this." He exclaimed. "That parrot is definitely deceased, and when I bought it not half an hour ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it being tired and shagged out after a long squawk."

"Is anyone else thinking that we should stop them before they have to go on." Menke hopped past in the opposite direction, trying to get his foot through the leg hole of costume. There was a yell of dismay as he tripped over the sitting Malcolm and both of them plummeted to the floor. "Hey!" Menke looked down at his foot. "I did it!"

"Good! You're on!" Jordan and Jonny quickly steered both of the fallen pair to their feet and over the back of the stage. Roberto, Andy and Antoine raced up with them both, Antoine and Roberto exchanging broad grins. 

Making sure the prop mistress was out of sight, Jordan and Rachel hurried over to a pile of props, grateful that they had managed to bribe the backstage man who brought the heavy pirate costumes down.

"They're gonna string you up by your balls, love." Rachel chuckled, opening the bundle and looking down at the two objects lying within it. "I bet Jamieson has a hook in his office just waiting for you."

Jordan snickered, examining his silvery sword, then casting it aside amid the pile of unused props. "I'm not about to let the only other Star Wars buff in the cast leave without giving him a proper send off."

"Think he'll be able to keep a straight face?"

"Who?" Jenni inquired, adjusting her Siamese head as she walked over to join them.

"Just John."

Raymond glanced down at the long, plastic objects they had successfully snuck down from their dressing rooms. "Hon, he'll laugh his pretty ass off, even if it's just from the thought of the look on Jamieson's face."

"I won't get in that much trouble." Jordan protested, laughing.

"Wanna bet?" His wife murmured.

Jordan smirked, which looked very out of place on his Coricopat-painted face. "Love, you forget, all I have to do is stare at the guy and look dangerous. Even if he pays my salary, the miserable git is still terrified of me."

"You? Dangerous? I like it." Rachel pressed close against him, both of them pushing their Siamese masks up their foreheads. Placing his bundle aside, Jordan pulled her fast against him and claimed a punishing kiss.

"Uh...guys?" Joely prodded them with her pitchfork. They ignored her, Jordan's hands grabbing his wife's buttocks, pulling her hard against the front of his body. "Guys...um..." She prodded them again. "We're on."

"Bugger." Jordan sighed. He released his wife, grabbing one of the objects from his package and sprinting up and over the back of the pipe, swinging over just in time for his line.

Down beside Joely, just behind the tyre, Raymond muttered. "Are they always this horny?"

"Last time I saw them this bad, they ended up with kids on every occasion."

Raymond groaned, then both of them ran up over the back to surround John and Miranda in their respective positions, both of them shooting a look at John, who apparently had not noticed Jordan's choice of weapon.

And he didn't, until one was tossed to him.

Then, Growltiger stared at the item in his hand in incomprehension for several seconds. He looked over at Jordan, then back at his weapon, then just cracked up completely, doubling over and laughing.

Jordan smirked, switching his light-up-effect lightsaber on. It glowed green, buzzing as he swished it this way and that. John managed to quell his laughter long enough to switch his own on. It glowed red, which only set off his giggles again.

The audience seemed to be both confused and amused by this twist.

Finally calming, the pair began the fight, only for John to release a loud snort of laughter the moment their blades connected with the crackling hiss sound that the lightsabers did in their favourite films.

Despite the fact that both Growltiger and Genghis seemed to be having trouble keeping their faces straight, the fight proceeded as usual, until the moment that Growltiger was forced to leap from the plank.

Raising his fist defiantly, he yelled before he leapt. "Genghis! I am your father!"

The remaining members of the Cast who were on stage simply ended themselves laughing right there.

***

"You okay, baby?"

Menke looked up from the mirror at Tommy, shaking violently. "I think..." He trailed off and shook his head. "No." 

As soon as he'd got offstage with the rest of the crew during Growltiger's number, he had decided to flee backstage to the green room to begin the process of becoming Macavity, which he suspected might take some time.

The red-clad dancer's approached and stood behind his seat, her hands sliding over his shoulder and drawing his head back between her breasts. Menke closed his eyes, his violent shivering gradually subsiding.

"It's only for five minutes, Menke." Tommy murmured against his temple. "You get to go out there and pummel Andy's ass..." She paused. "Hold on, this isn't a normal show, is it?" A wicked gleam appeared in her eyes. "Menke, dear..."

"Oh no..." He recognised the tone in her voice.

"I have a little idea." She murmured, helping him remove the George Bailey wig. He met her gaze through her reflection in the mirror. "Don't worry. Nothing about bonking anyone on the stage or fun like that."

One brow rose as he started to wipe some of his make-up off. None of the costuming aids had arrived in the room yet, most showing up halfway through Skimbleshanks, if what Tony had told him was right. "So do tell..."

"Well, you're trying to outdo Jordan and Rachel and Jordan just had a lightsaber on stage."

"Aw, crap."

"Hear me out, handsome." Tommy murmured against his temple. "I think I have the perfect way for you to beat their freaky asses."

Menke nodded. "I'm listening."

"Well, here's just a suggestion..."

***

As the Skimbleshanks train was hastily bundled away, Blue sought out her roommate, who had just returned to the stage, hurrying to her side. "Tommy." She hissed, nudging the taller dancer. "Is he okay?"

"Menke?" Tommy nodded, giving her small companion a wicked grin, as they all looked towards Antoine, raised on high on the shoulders and body of Jonny and Raymond. 

"That look worries me." Blue muttered, only serving to make Tommy grin more broadly, her dark eyes glittering with glee.

The bleach- blonde-haired dancer had tears in his eyes, his last time playing Skimbleshanks more emotional than he thought it would be. 

Deposited back on the stage by the two who had lifted him, he passed Tommy, receiving a nod from her and grinned weakly, starting into the reprise of his song that lead into the first Macavity appearance.

A crash from upstage provided Blue with her cue.

"MACAVITY!"

A wild-furred-costumed figure ran up onto the tyre with a deep booming laugh. Blue actually started in fright at the sight of Menke, his expression almost unrecognisable, a chilling sneer on his lips.

Throwing his clawed hands wide, he released another throbbing burst of laughter, the sheer sensual satisfaction and mockery in that single sound making several people stare at one another in surprise.

That was Menke? Sweet, nice, dopey Menke?

One gloved hand singled out Deuteronomy, the lips curving in an arrogant smirk, one finger crooking in the slightest suggestion of a beckoning gesture. Benjamin took a wary step forward, unable to resist this frighteningly good Macavity.

"Take him!" He bellowed, as everyone on the stage seemed to recoil from him. Two figures – Jonny and Malcolm in Henchcat guise – ran down and bundled Benjamin under a sack, dragging him away. 

Demeter seemed frozen to the spot as Macavity ran down from the car, pausing to lift her face, everyone staring at him in astonishment.

Bending close to her, his clawed gloves cradling her chin with frightening gentleness, his deep voice was soft, but carried in a threatening rumble over the sound system. "I'll be back," He breathed. "For you."

With that, he threw her back with enough force to look violent, but with enough care so as not to hurt her, into Bombalurina's arms and sprinted off the stage, leaving the startled girl clutching at Tommy's arms.

The stage cleared in seconds, Blue staring around as Tommy receded to the back of the stage, to take her place on the tyre. For once, she did not have to pretend to be startled by a Macavity, the expression in Menke's eyes making her shiver and not just with the shock.

There was something...sexy about it.

Fluffy little Menke had suddenly become something else, something that she would fear, but want to touch at the same time. The curve of his lip, the glint in his green eyes, the bare touch of the glove at her chin...it wasn't Menke, but damn! 

If that was what Macavity was meant to be like, she could suddenly understand why Demeter was meant to be the way she was. The fact that she half-wanted to throw herself at him but – in the same heartbeat – wanted to run screaming was frightening.

Shooting a look back at Tommy, she darted across the stage, looking around. Shaking her head and swiping at her wig, she retreated, whipping around with a look of fright, but nothing was there and she started to sing.

***

"Where the HELL did that come from?"

Shivering violently, but grinning, Menke looked at the astounded Jordan. "What?" He was pulling the hefty fake Old Deuteronomy costume over his Macavity costume, the head sitting on the desk beside him.

"You...Mac..."

"Huh?"

Jordan shook his head. "Menke, you were bloody incredible!" He was wearing one of the fake Macavity costumes, his head tucked under his arm. "The laughing...the expressions...the thing you did to Blue...Christ, you even scared me!"

"Let's just say it comes from the experience, Jordan." The green-eyed dancer replied, his voice suddenly quiet. Looking down at the Deuteronomy mask, he picked it up and shot a look at the other dancer. "Time to hit our posts?"

"You betcha."

Exchanging a brief hand-shake, they parted ways, Menke hastily ran out into the main entrance to the auditorium, hiking his long, trailing Old Deuteronomy coat up like a woman – or a cross-dresser – would hike up her – or his – dress to run. 

Most Macavitys would just don the coat in the room near the lobby, but Menke had needed to run back to the green room to find his small good-luck charm from Demi, his nauseous nerves almost getting too much for him.

Reaching the doorway, he spotted Jonny and Malcolm waiting for him, both of them sipping from bottles of water. Jonny straightened up first, casting his eyes over the older dancer. "You holding together okay, Menke?"

"Getting there." He held up a gloved hand. It was shaking. "At least it's only my hands, eh?"

"As long as you don't drop Andy on his head, you'll do fine." Malcolm murmured. "Not that it would make much difference to that guy."

Menke forced a laugh. "I still can't believe I'm playing him...and playing him well. That's what scares me the most."

"Just make him super sexy and you'll have the whole audience eating out of the palm of your... er... paw." Jonny gave him a broad grin. Glancing to the door, he placed his bottle on the small ledge beside him. "Heads on, boys. We're up now."

Menke nodded, hastily yanking on the fake Old Deuteronomy head, chewing on his lower lip as they made their entrance into the auditorium. 

Several people in the audience turned to look at him and he saw Roberto, in the other false Macavity costume, run off the car as Andy turned towards him, all of the other members of the cast following suite and approaching as he shuffled up the ramp.

Squinting behind the eyeholes of the mask, he saw Blue nearing and stretched out a hand to her. She touched him and he grabbed her hand, making her start in surprise. Pulling back, she backed away from him, a scared look on her face.

He couldn't help thinking she made an exceptional Demeter.

Receiving touches from everyone, he noticed the questioning look in Antoine's eyes and subtly nodded that he was all right. His eyes drifted sidelong and he saw Rachel pacing, just out of range, a suspicious look on her face.

That instant, Blue darted behind him, the familiar staccato notes from orchestra signifying that he was about to get jumped. Blue swept in front of him with a hiss, sending Miranda and Caroline running back in fright.

Andy reached for her, holding out his hands in calming supplication, but Blue was having none of it and threw herself towards Menke the moment his back was to her, her small body so light that – on top of the jacket – he barely noticed her.

Spinning wildly, he felt her squeeze his shoulder reassuringly a second before pitching herself off, taking the false head with her. 

Hurling the heavy jacket off, he threw his arms upwards, performing a strange kind of spin, before running his gloved hands from chest to groin, his body undulating sensually, as if gaining some kind of perverse satisfaction from his own touch, his expression one of bliss.

Shaking himself as if reminding himself that he actually had to fight, he whipped around to spot Demeter, lunging forward and grasping the crouched Blue by the wrist, her hand raised in desperate supplication.

Spinning her in a sharp pirouette against her chest, he thrust his face against her neck, as if inhaling her scent, his arm holding her back hard against his chest. Struggling against him, she leapt forward, Menke's momentum catching her, hauling her back in a smooth motion and bringing her up to slump – backwards – over his shoulder.

His arm about her waist, holding her on, his other hand came up and raked rudely up her thrashing thighs, her body whipping against his shoulder, only her trust in him holding her letting her react so wildly to his portrayal of the role.

Andy dove forward, grabbing at her legs as she spasmed her back and lashed upwards, Menke catching hold of her upper body before she could hit the stage and both men swinging her upwards in a battle to keep her.

With Raymond on as Victoria, there seemed no one to come to the rescue of the hissing, kicking girl caught between the two hunky dancers, until Jordan – rapidly changed out of his fake Macavity costume – sprinted up from the wings and ducked under Blue, lifted and spinning out from between the two other dancers.

Menke lashed out at Andy, who staggered back, then ran to follow Blue, who was hidden by the two dark felines but was swiftly blocked by Jordan and Rachel, both of whom arched their backs and hissed dangerously at him.

With a snarl, he spun back to Andy and the fight began in earnest. Menke's make-up only seemed to accentuate the dangerous and powerful aura that surrounded him, his eyes glinting with manic glee.

Panting and shaking, Blue was pressed between Rachel and Jordan, who were watching Menke with rapt amazement and fascination. Glancing at Menke, an idea came to the small dancer and when Menke did his final throw – the fight adapted in the absence of a proper Alonzo – she ran forward to the base of the car.

Macavity, lashing out at anyone who passed as he staggered back, halted at the tiny dancer, a long look exchanged between the two, before he turned and ran up the boot of the car, performing the electrifying disappearing act.

As he dodged down behind the set and hurried towards the green room, he paused in the wings to watch as the slight figure of Demeter, barely visible, crawled unsteadily towards the front of the stage.

The brilliant spotlight shone around, then fell on Andy. The big dancer looked like he was truly in pain, pushing himself up on his forearms, only to collapse again, as Demeter crept nearer, her touch making him start.

Lifting his face, Menke watched as Munkustrap seemed to recover a little, pushing himself upright and touching her face. The couple exchanged a brief muzzle in the light of the spotlight that got considerably more erotic as soon as the light turned elsewhere.

Shaking his head, he chuckled shakily and hurried back towards the green room, hoping he could find Benjamin, before the character of Old Deuteronomy was conjured back onto the stage by Mistoffelees.

***

At the left side of the stage, Blue was squirming in Andy's arms, having been unable to break free from him since they had 'bumped' into each other in the wake of the fight sequence. With her held in his arms, he had crawled around to the car and she had somehow ended up pressed against his chest, his own body almost reclining on the stage.

The moment that the spotlight had swung away from them, to be directed at Roberto on the car, he had pulled her close, kissing her in a way that she was sure would smudge her make-up beyond recognition.

Large hands spread on her hips, he held her close to him, deftly avoiding the spikes of her collar and nipping at the sensitive spots on her throat, making her whimper and swat at him, vainly trying to wriggle free.

"PRESTO!"

Munkustrap's head jerked around from Demeter's neck and he hissed rudely at Mistoffelees, who was grinning down at him from the rope, for interrupting his pleasantly intimate little snuggle with Demeter.

Blue couldn't help giggling, as Andy relinquished his hold on her, both of them slinking up to the car. He took a seat on the fender with her kneeling up between his knees, his arms going around her snugly.

Thanks to the thick warmers obscuring his hands, no one in the audience noticed that he was casually fondling her breasts, chuckling throatily as she continued to swat at him and squirm away from him.

Tommy appeared near them, draping her arm around Andy's shoulders and receiving a playful head-rub from him, her gloved hand brushing casually over Blue's shoulder. The petite dancer gave her a warm smile, still smacking at Andy's hands.

All three of them chuckled at the antics of Tugger, Mistoffelees and Victoria in the middle of the stage, Malcolm having trouble keeping a straight face and Raymond's doe-eyed Victoria more air-headed and dainty-looking than even Geeta's was.

Glancing around to make sure everyone's attention was elsewhere, Andy raised on his hands, turning Blue's face to his and lowered his head, claiming a light kiss from her, her right hand coming up behind his head to stroke through his wig.

Murmuring the equivalent of a purr, they exchanged nuzzles, much the Bombalurina's annoyance, the red-clad dancer dipping her head to nuzzle at Demeter as well, Munkustrap stroking over her mane with his warmered hand.

Cuddled together, they were quite content to remain where they were, but Roberto was having none of that. Despite flirting incessantly with Victoria, he seemed mildly irritated that Bombalurina was not paying more attention to him.

Malcolm started to point towards Joely, as Cassandra, but Roberto caught his hand and re-directed it towards Blue, pulling a face. Andy gave him a horrified look, wrapping Blue up tighter in his arms.

Roberto heaved a frustrated sigh, bending and grabbing at Blue's ankles, the tiny dancer squealing with laughter as she was made into a tug-of-war rope for Andy and Roberto, both of them glaring at each other.

Finally, though, the Tugger won through and Blue was dragged, giggling hysterically, across the stage towards the 'magic' pipe, where she was pushed quickly underneath the brilliant red blanket by Jonny and Jenni.

Ducking into the pipe, she started to crawl quickly through it, stopping short in surprise when she was greeted by a flaming red wig, as opposed to Benjamin's...not-flaming-red one.

More surprising was the face attached to the wig.

"Uh...what?"

"Never mind that now." Menke flashed her a grin. "Just wait back here for me, okay?"

She nodded, letting him dive past, and tumbled out of the pipe and straight into Benjamin's waiting arms. He squinted down at her. "I hate to tell you this, Joely," He murmured, masking a smile. "But either my eyesight is getting worse, or you've shrunk."

"Funny, Ben." Blue grinned. "Mind telling me what's going on?"

The older dancer muffled a laugh. "Apparently, Menke."

***

Everyone was staring.

The audience was lost.

Andy and Tommy were slumped against each other, laughing.

Malcolm looked like he was about to fall over in a bout of hysterics.

Roberto was blinking, rubbing his eyes, looking again, then blinking harder.

Menke was sitting in the middle of the stage, the blanket just pulled off him, still in Macavity garb, looking thoroughly confused.

Shaking his head, Roberto scratched his wig in an attitude of bewilderment. He pointed with both forefingers at the scarlet blanket still gripped in Malcolm's hand, then down at Menke, who gave him a helpless 'I dunno' look.

Grabbing the blanket from Malcolm impatiently, he turned it over in his hands, as if looking for Old Deuteronomy. Giving it a shake, he groaned, then thrust the blanket back at Malcolm, motioning for Menke to return to the position for the 'magic'.

Shrugging apologetically, Menke got to his feet and shambled back across the stage amiably, scratching at his crotch and butt for good measure with his clawed gloves. Diving under the blanket, he didn't see the broad grins exchanged by Roberto and Malcolm, who were both struggling to keep straight faces.

This time, though, Mistoffelees did what he was meant to and Benjamin reappeared from beneath the blanket, only he wasn't quite the Deuteronomy they remember. Wearing a Disneyland baseball cap and sunglasses, he hastily hid a plastic hotdog behind his back.

By this point, very few faces in the cast were straight any longer and most of the audience was sniggering right along with them.

To conclude the very bizarre song, Malcolm shook his head and mournfully plodded over towards the ramp, to motion for Blue to come back onto the stage, only to stop and stare, before cracking up.

Menke merely grinned, running up the ramp with Blue on his bushy, red shoulder. Kneeling, he deposited her on the floor and in a smooth motion, vanished into the pipe at the back to the stage and disappeared from sight.

***

Helen, who had avoided the majority of the madness, was ready to join in with the last few minutes of chaos. When she staggered on, still being followed by her toilet paper tail, Raymond turned and blew a loud raspberry at her.

In return, she knocked the outer sides of her fists together with an action that could only be recognised from 'Friends'. 

Starting to sing Memory, she ignored Raymond's pointed yawning in the first bars of the song, especially when the big, white-clad dancer started playing pounce with Old Deuteronomy's long, bushy tail.

When she fell, Rumpleteaser squealed. "Eek!" 

She didn't mean it to be so loud, but she hadn't realised her mike was still on, so a deafening 'eek!' hung in the air of the auditorium and, on the ledge above them, Rhiannon was snickering so hard she could barely get her lines out.

Trying to hide her face, Helen shot a look back at their current Victoria, wondering what kind of reception Grizabella would get from the big kitty who seemed to have a bit of a fixation with the tails of the tomcats.

Tottering to her feet, she started bellowing her closing lines of the song. With a few minor adaptations of course. 

"Touch me!" She saw a few people wince at the deafening resonance of her powerful, opera-trained voice. Truth be told, she didn't need no soddin' microphone, having been taught voice projection, but if they wanted to deafen half the audience, so be it! "It's so easy to squeeze me! Going right past my belly! Oh then we'll have fun!" She gave a sassy wiggle. "If you touch me, I'll understand what spazziness is! Look a new day has begun."

She glanced around to see Tommy shaking her head, rubbing her ears and wincing, a pained look on her face. Raymond, though, was blindly ignoring her, wrestling with Deuteronomy's tail, his legs waving in the air.

Staggering towards the edge of the stage, she put her hand behind her back.

Nothing happened.

Coughing, she waved the hand behind her back.

Still, nothing happened.

Turning, she put her hands on her hips and glared at Raymond. He was happily shaking Deuteronomy's tail between his teeth like a ragdoll. Stomping over to him, she kicked his rear and stuck out her hand.

Huge, dark eyes turned and innocently looked up at her, then one of dancer's huge paws grabbed her gloved hand and impatiently slapped it into Benjamin's before going back to the tail-munching session.

Reluctantly, Benjamin forced himself to his feet, grouchily leading the grumpy Grizabella in a fancy wander around the stage, before leading her towards the tyre, in the lead up to the ascension to the Heavyside. 

***

"Okay...that was too weird." Annie hissed, as the cast scattered, the audience applauding ad cheering loudly. Raymond jogged past, pausing to nuzzle each of them, Menke – back in George Bailey make-up – repeating the motion in the other direction.

The music continued to play as they were pounced by different cast members, Tommy bending close to Annie from behind without warning and making the artist shriek in fright, when she received a long, wet lick up her cheek.

The bows had started when the trio heard panting from behind them and turned to peer over the back of the seats. Andy was lying in the aisle, looking completely worn out, his arms spread wide, eyes closed.

Maria leaned over the back of the chair and carefully poked his belly. Mismatched eyes opened lazily and regarded her.

With a smooth, perfect movement that brought the tall, elegant Munkustrap to his feet behind them, a dignified look on his face that made Annie look like she was about to pass out, Andy twitched his nose, then slinked off into the wings.

"You okay there?" Cara gave Annie a nudge.

"Meh..."

Maria laughed. "That's a yes."

"Ya think?" Cara snickered, glancing up at the stage to watch the bows, as Raymond daintily skipped on and performed an elaborate curtsey, closely followed by Jordan and Rachel. 

The dark pair twirled in from opposite sides of the stage, Jordan carrying a lightsaber to remind people of who he was, made their bows, then tangoed off – tangled around each other – into the sidelines, to deafening applause.

"Hold on..."

Maria and Cara both looked at Annie questioningly. "Eh?"

"Munk is meant to come out now..." She pointed to the stage. "They missed him..."

Indeed, Munkustrap was no where to be seen, but – in his absence – Menke sprinted onto the stage doing a handspring and spin, landing neatly on his feet and spreading his hands with a wide grin. The trio leapt to their feet, whooping.

Several others joined them, hooting and cheering.

Fluffing the Macavity wig that had quickly replaced his George Bailey and adjusting his sparkly knickers, he made a coquettish little bow, pivoted and skipped to the back of the stage with a jaunty little kick and coy look at the audience.

Jordan and Rachel had to admit he had won the bet by a mile, both of them inclining their heads in the presence of greatness. He just wiggled his rear and straightened the waistband of his knickers again.

"I don't get it..." By now, Maria's confusion was mirroring Annie's. Benjamin and Helen were both coming forward for their bows, hand-in-hand and smiling, but there had been no sign of Blue or Andy anywhere.

"Hmm..."

Annie glanced at the mattress, spotting someone there. Before she had a chance to recognise the small figure, Steffi launched herself into the backflip routine across the stage as the final bow, which only increased Annie's confusion and concern.

"Where on earth are they?"

"Just what I was thinking..."

***

"But we've missed the bows!"

Behind the stage, Andy grinned down at his girlfriend, who was pressed against the back of the tyre. "Never mind that, Shorty." He murmured, bending to claim a kiss from her. "Trust me on this. I'm gonna get the biggest cheer tonight."

"You wanna make sure Munk gets applause so you run on late?" Blue gave him a dubious look, her hand resting on his shoulder. "I don't see why I have to be dragged back here with you. I don't care how much applause I get." 

Giving her an indulgent smile, Andy took one of her small hands in his larger one. "Just because you're wonderful enough to keep me company, lover." He replied, lifting her small fingers to his lips. "C'mon."

He led the way up onto the tyre from behind, the rest of the cast lining the edge of the stage. A few puzzled looks went around the audience as Blue stepped alongside Andy and the full cast melted back to clear the stage for them.

"Uh...Andy?"

Looking down at her with a brilliant smile, he stepped down from the tyre and offered her both his hands, helping her down. Warily looking around at their grinning friends, Blue felt distinctly suspicious. "Trust me, Shorty." He repeated gently.

The audience looked as lost as she felt.

Reluctantly, she let him take both her hands and lead her towards the front of the stage, her blue eyes flicking around nervously, trying to work out what exactly was going on. The orchestra was silent, which worried her.

Glancing towards the orchestra entrance, she saw some of them peeking out as well.

"Andy, what's going on...?"

Halting at the front of the stage, he turned to face her, a broad, deliriously happy smile on his striped face, releasing her slender hands. Going down on one knee in front of her, he reached inside his arm warmer.

"Oh God..." She took a step back. "You better not be doing what I think you're doing..."

"Blue," Withdrawing a small, square box from his warmer, he raised his eyes to her.

"Oh God..." She whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. "You are doing what I thought you were doing, you bloody great git..." Blue's trembling hands came to her nose, tears welling in her eyes.

"Will you hush up, so I can do this, Shorty?" He gave her a bright smile, then took her shaking left hand in his right when she nodded. "Well, how to start...I met you, I fell in love with you and now, I wanna marry you." He cocked his head and gave her a look that was pure Andy. "Wanna marry me, Blue?"

Her right hand still covering her mouth, she released a muffled laugh as he opened the small box and revealed an aquamarine and diamond ring. Tears were pouring down her cheeks and she nodded, unable to reply.

"That a yes?" 

With a happy sob, Blue threw herself into his waiting arms, knocking him flat on his back, smattering kisses all over his face. "Yes!" She cried. "Yes, you big, dopey, annoying, stupid, wonderful, wonderful git!"

Flat on his back on the stage, one arm around the laughing and crying Blue, he negotiated the ring out of the box with his teeth, catching it with his right hand and managed to find Blue's left hand to slip the ring on her finger. "S'it fit?"

Nodding, she sat back in his lap as he sat up, gathering her in his arms. Her whisper was heard only by him. "I love you, Andy."

"Likewise, Shorty." He replied, getting to his feet with her still cradled against his chest. With his arms still around her, he placed her on her feet, both of them turning to the audience and taking their bows.

They received a full standing ovation.

With a smug grin, the couple turned to Menke and the dark couple. "Beat that!" Andy crowed, before hoisting his girlfriend up onto his shoulder as the orchestra started playing again and the stage started to clear.

"You only won cos I'm already married!" Menke pulled a face and 'riverdanced' his way off, followed by a conga line of two dark twins and Cassandra. Andy grinned up at Blue, who ran a hand over his wig, as he took them down the ramp.

Soon, the only people left on the stage were Raymond, Malcolm, Helen and Roberto, who had just emerged from the wings and tapped Helen on the shoulder. She looked at him, then nodded to Malcolm and Raymond who were dancing a kind of quazi-waltz.

Roberto looked shocked and annoyed.

Strutting up towards the couple, he cleared his throat loudly, both of the other dancers turning to look at him curiously. He gave Raymond a flirtatious wink, to which, the big dancer giggled and pawed at him.

Roberto offered an arm to the 'Queen'-Size Victoria. Raymond looked him up and down for several seconds, then giggled again and swung the startled and shrieking Roberto over his shoulder and ran gleefully towards the wings. 

Malcolm and Helen exchanged glances, both laughing, then took each other's arms and skipped off into the wings after the howling Roberto, who was still bouncing up and down against Raymond's muscled back.

***

"Oh my..."

"Uh huh..."

"Did they...I mean, were they...are they...huh?"

"Yeah...that too..."

Maria shook her head. "Munkustrap and Demeter...engaged..."

"Sketchpad...must use..."

Cara grinned. "You'll have time at the stage door." She remarked, shaking her head. "That has to be top of the chart for the all time weirdest show ever..."

"Uh huh..."

"And another gorgeous guy off the market." Annie grumbled. Both her friends looked at her. "I know, I know. I'm taken as well, I know." They gave her a questioning, teasing look. "Phil's at home though."

"And there was me thinking that, with my mental powers of persuasion, I would convince the hunk to pick me." Cara sighed with mock despair. "All the best ones...gay or taken by very, very small people."

Maria gave her a wicked grin. "You could always start playing for the other side."

"Yeah...I'll have to ask Tommy about that side of things, won't I, Annie?" Both of the younger women grinned wickedly as Annie blushed scarlet to the roots of her hair.

***

"Congratulations!"

"Likewise."

Menke gave them a puzzled look. "Why? I didn't just get engaged."

"No, but you played the best Macavity I've seen in my life without getting all upset on stage and stuff." Blue stepped away from Andy – who had his unitard rolled down to his waist – to hug the taller dancer. Menke smiled faintly, going on one knee to hug her properly. "You scared the crap outta me."

The South African chuckled. "Well, I only learned from the worst...or best...I dunno...I just know that my Mac had nothing on his."

"Anyone we know?" Blue drew back a little and looked him in the face.

"No one you would want to." He replied softly, lifting a hand to fondly brush his knuckles down her cheek. "He's in an asylum for the criminally insane now and trust me when I say that I feel safer knowing he's in there."

The petite dancer nodded. "Mine's still on remand...trial in a few months..." She accepted another warm hug from the dancer. "And if we keep doing this, my Andy might get a lil bitty jealous, won't you?"

"Of girly bonding?" Andy chuckled, holding out a hand to her. She returned to him, rising on her toes to pull his face down to hers. "Never could be jealous of that, love." He ran a hand down her back. "You run and get changed. I'll meet you out here, okay?"

Blue nodded, smiling in delight and fingering the ring he had given her. "See you in a bit, Andy." She replied, darting off to join Tommy, who insisted on inspecting the ring, before waving at Andy and letting the petite dancer into their dressing room.

"And I thought I had strange taste, going for a vet." Menke chuckled, shaking his 

"Try goin' for a goth-boy." Raymond murmured huskily, approaching with Malcolm hugged snugly against his side. "There's somethin' weird about fancyin' someone with a face like a zebra's ass."

"Charming." Malcolm groused, as they separated from Menke in the halls lined with their dressing rooms. 

Menke couldn't help laughing. "We going for a drink to celebrate everything tonight?"

"Guess so." Andy shrugged. "Don't think we've got any reason not to." He high-fived Menke and turned to enter the small dressing room he shared with Malcolm, Raymond and Jordan, only to stop short, staring.

"Oh my gawd!"

Jordan didn't even give them a look. He still had his wig and make-up on, but the rest of his solid, muscular body was buck naked, his palms braced against the far wall of the dressing room, his hips ululating sinuously.

A stunning tattoo of a black and gold Chinese dragon rippled and writhed on his back as his muscles shifted and similar patterns on his calves and arms stretched as he rotated his pelvis forward, towards the end wall of the room.

One of the three at the door tried to think of something to ask about why he was humping a wall, when two feminine hands appeared around his sides, splaying on his back and a long, slim and thoroughly naked leg hooked over his hip.

Rachel's face appeared at her husband's shoulder and she gave them a smoky smile. "Don't mind us." She panted, her nails digging into Jordan's smooth back leaving pink crescents on any unmarked skin. "Pretend we're not here."

Her face tilted as Jordan claimed her lips with a savage kiss, a low growl escaping him. She responded by raking her nails down his back, making him groan. Her own moan of pleasure sounded in chorus with his.

All three men in the doorway were still staring, jaws hanging.

"I-I think we'll...uh...just...uh...leave you for now..." Andy hastily said, steering Malcolm and Raymond out of the door quickly. He pulled the door shut, blinking. "Oh God...I really didn't need to be seeing that."

"Seeing what?" Menke called from his dressing room, the door still wide open. 

Entering the cramped dressing room shared by Jonny, Antoine, Menke and Roberto, Andy pulled a face at them. "Jordan and Rachel were going at it up against the wall of our dressing room."

"I was wondering when they would have another round due. They haven't been this bad for four years, as far as I know." Antoine remarked absently, half to himself, as he continued to wipe of his make up in the mirror, using a handful of wipes.

"Round?"

"Four years?"

"Huh?"

Antoine looked at them. "You did notice they were all over each other tonight?"

"Hard to miss, wasn't it?" Andy said dryly.

"Well, I was in a show with Jordan six years back – you can guess he has trouble getting roles cos of his face – but anyway, he was in it, but she wasn't," Antoine laid aside his wipes and turned to his audience. "We never saw her, until this one day, when she took a day off her own show and was all over him any time he wasn't on stage. Four years ago, he was out of work, but she was working and it was exactly the same."

"So this is a regular thing?"

"Not...exactly." The bleach blond dancer replied. "I have no idea what it is about those two, but they only get like that in the lead up to one thing. Nine months after I saw them behaving like that, their second kid was born, about five years back."

Malcolm snorted. "You're saying when they're horny, she gets knocked up? Why didn't she after they got horny four years back?"

"I'm not saying anything without evidence, but every time I've heard about them being like this, a pregnancy has quickly followed." Green eyes looked away. "As for the one four years back... before she came to Cats, she lost a baby. Stillborn. A daughter. She had been healthy right up until labour and something went wrong. They had to C-section her, but by the time they got the baby out, she had been strangled by the umbilical cord. Rachel was distraught."

"God..." Malcolm's eyes clouded with pity. "Poor Rach."

"So you think she's going to end up with another bun in the oven from this? If it's been a few years, maybe she's feelin' ready..."

Antoine shrugged. "I don't know, Ray, but I honestly think this'll help her...maybe even help both of them." He grimaced. "The loss of that baby hit them both harder than anyone realised, until Rach tried to top herself." He shook his head. "Jordan found her in the nursery of their house two days after they had the funeral, wrists slashed, blood everywhere, completely hysterical with grief. He just got her to the hospital in time."

"You sure you should be telling us this?" Malcolm raised a brow.

The bleach-blonde sighed, looking up at the little Goth. "Mal, those two trust everyone in this room not to say anything to anyone. They know I wouldn't tell anyone that I thought would run and blab to everyone."

Jonny nodded. "I had a friend who was working with Jor when it happened. You look at them and they seem the least emotional people you can imagine, but back then...Christ, they just went to pieces. They care so much about each other and their family, but no one realised how much until things went bad."

"Will they be okay in the dressing room, though? They won't go psychotic of anything?"

Antoine chuckled faintly. "If they're shagging, it's not likely."

"And what about our clothes?" Andy demanded petulantly.

"The easiest thing to do is ignore them and let them get on with it and hope they're not sitting on your clothes." The blonde dancer grinned. "You get used to it after a while. They're usually so wrapped up in each other, they won't even see you if you stand right in front of them."

"Uh...right..." Reluctantly, Andy turned to the two men who shared his dressing room. "Dare we go and try this ignoring thing out?" Malcolm shrugged, Raymond playing with the shiny studs on his pretty, pink collar.

The trio crossed the hall and carefully opened the door. There was no sound from within, so they opened the door fully, stopping short again. Andy vaguely registered Raymond's murmur of admiration and had to agree that – despite the oddness of the scenario – it was beautiful.

Jordan and Rachel were sitting in a strange kind of cross-legged position, clearly still intimately joined, Rachel's ankles crossed behind her husband's back, Jordan's crossed legs a cradle for her lower body.

They were gazing at one another, the tips of their noses just touching each other. Both of them were naked but for their wigs and make-up, Rachel's hands were spread on her husband's muscled chest, his arms loosely around her waist.

Tears were cascading down her face and glittering on her long lashes, her make-up somehow still intact. In unison, they both bowed their heads until their brows were touching lightly, both closing their eyes. 

They seemed to sit like that for an eternity, until Rachel released a soft sob. With a sad smile, her husband gently gathered her against his body, her face buried in the hollow of his shoulder as she wept.

"Jor...is she okay?"

Jordan nodded, holding her closer. Their arms were around one another tightly, Jordan's cheek and chin resting on his wife's slim shoulder, his rough hands spread on the smooth, unmarred planes of her back.

"I'm guessing you won't be coming out with the rest of us tonight, then?"

Again, Jordan just shook his head wordlessly, his gentle hands moving in soothing circles on Rachel's bare back. He pressed a kiss to her freckled shoulder, then rested his chin back where it had been, still holding her and tenderly rocking her against his body.

Exchanging concerned looks, the trio quickly changed back into their regular clothing without disturbing the couple seated together on the floor. A knock at the door made them jump in fright, the silence broken.

"Who is it?"

"Just us, Andy." Blue replied through the door. "You ready?"

"Just a sec." He looked down at Jordan again. "Are you guys going to be all right?" Jordan gave him a suggestion of a smile and nodded. "And Cori and Tanto aren't going to be joined at the pelvis at the next show?" A soft chuckle escaped Rachel and she looked up at him, nodding in spite of her tears. Andy smiled. "Just coming, Shorty!"

***

"Has Menke come out yet?"

"DEMI!"

"The one and only." Demi replied, her hands in her the pockets of her fleece. "Trust me to forget my bloody jacket when the weather starts getting cold." She groused, stamping her feet to keep them warm. "Anyway...Menke..."

"Not yet." Annie replied. "I guess he told you he was on as...well...him?"

Demi nodded. "How did he do?"

"Guuuuuuuuuuuh!"

The blonde-haired woman stared at the shortest brunette of the trio in confusion. "Uh...is that a good thing?"

"Cara, here, is a little bit of a Macavity fan." Maria explained, clearly amused, patting the grinning Cara on the arm. "If she approved of Menke's Macavity, you've got approval from the highest level."

"So that would be 'he dun good' then?"

"Let's just say that was the sexiest bloody Mac that I've seen in my freaking life!" Cara seemed to have got past the initial timidity, her eyes sparkling. "He did a thing...then with his thing... and her thing...and wow..."

"I think I get the idea." Demi chuckled. "Anything else interesting happen?"

Maria shrugged. "Coricopat and Tantomile were horny for the whole show. Genghis and Growltiger had lightsabers for their fight. Nothing much really happened." She paused, then added. "And Blue and Andy got engaged."

"WHAT?"

Annie laughed. "Yep. The shrimp and her Munk are going to be married." She glanced towards the door, where Menke was exiting, pausing to do something with what looked like a mobile phone in his hand. "Hey Menke."

"Just a second..." He called.

Maria frowned when her phone rang shrilly to tell her she had a message. Opening the message, she couldn't help laughing. "Uh, Annie, Menke wants me to tell you that he's very sorry he used all your credit up."

"Huh?"

A mobile phone swam into her line of sight. "I believe this is yours?" Menke gave her a grin, as she snatched it back, opening his arms for his wife to embrace him. He held her tightly, pressing his eyes shut, his face buried in her long hair.

"You nicked my bloody phone?"

"You expected me not to have some fun after going through your bag?" He murmured. "Oh and I beat your record for Tetris."

"You git!"

Menke shrugged modestly. "That's me." With one arm around his wife, one of hers around his waist, he sighed. "I'm glad that shows over now. I'm going to ask to be taken off the Mac rotation. I can't do that again."

"Evening all!"

"Andy! Blue! I hear congratulations are in order!"

The tall dancer grinned. "Yeah! I got me a life-time dishwasher for the price of a ring."

"You wish!" Blue stamped on his foot with enough force to earn a yelp of surprise from her fiancé. "Serves you right." She cooed with mock-sweetness, reaching up to hug him. "Oh, and we're going for a drink somewhere...little celebration." She glanced back at the door. "If Tommy gets her arse out here."

"Handsome!"

"Oh god no!"

"Moni!" Four female voices squealed as one. 

Picking up his fiancée with both hands, he held her – giggling painfully – in the direction of the drag-princess. "I'm taken properly now, Moni! Stay back or I'll set the missus on you!"

"Missus?" Blue proffered her left hand, showing off the ring with a broad smile. "Oh! Sweetie-pie!" The tall Latino snatched the tiny dancer, hugging her warmly. "Look at you! You're all engaged and everything!" Hoisting Blue on her hip, like any adult would do a child, Moni lifted the girl's hand. "Wow! That's pretty!" She batted long lashes in Andy's direction. "You have such good taste, handsome."

"Don't start." Andy moaned, backing behind Menke.

"Why Andy!" Menke feigned shock. "Anyone would think that you didn't like being flirted with by dear, beautiful Moni." Moni immediately coyly hid her face behind a hand, batting her long, curly eyelashes. "You should be flattered!"

"You tell him, gorgeous." Moni purred, placing Blue back on solid ground and taking Menke's free arm between manicured hands with a seductive smile. Blinking, Menke stared at her, then at Andy, who was smirking smugly.

"Uh, Andy...?" Withdrawing his arm from Moni's grip, he reached behind him and jerked Andy to his side. "I think this is your department."

Andy could only wail in despair as Moni squealed in delight, clapped her hands and threw her arms around his neck.


	17. The Cast - Part 17 - Back In The Swing O...

Sitting on the kitchen chair, Philip whistled to himself as he scanned through the Saturday morning comic strips in the paper. A cooling cup of coffee sat on the table, by his hand, sunlight shining in from the only window beside the sink.

Annie was humming to herself as she buttered her toast on the counter. "Anything interesting happening in the world?" She glanced over her shoulder at him, licking extra butter and jam from her fingertips.

"Nothing much." He replied.

Wearing only boxer shorts, he scratched thoughtfully at his knee as he moved onto the sports pages. His girlfriend put the butter and jam away, joining him at the table, cup of tea in one hand, their plate of toast in the other.

"You know if you're on tonight?" Putting the plate down next to the paper, she ruffled his hair as she sat down.

"I should be so lucky." Swatting her hand away and snatching one of her slices of toast, he started nibbling on the crust. A fond smile crossed Annie's face, as she started writing down the shopping list on a notepad, sipping from her mug.

Both of them looked down at a mew from the floor. A silver and black tabby tom cat that the couple had bought two and a half years earlier, shortly after they had moved in together, pawed at Phil's leg and he chuckled, bending to scoop the kitten up.

"Good morning to you too, you noisy little fuzzball." He rubbed his nose against Mini-Munk's, the cat bought and named on a night that Phil had been playing Munkustrap before he had left to join Starlight Express. "Do you need fed?"

Mini-Munk purred, pawing at Phil's face.

"No, he doesn't." Annie added with a chuckle. "I fed him already."

"Aww, is mummy being mean to you, Mini-Munk? Is mummy stopping you from eating lots of rubbish?" Swinging the purring tom up over his head he gave him a playful shake. "Mummy doesn't want you getting all fat, just like daddy."

"And you wonder why I don't want to have kids." Annie shook her head, grinning. Her boyfriend gave her a mock-offended look, sitting Mini-Munk in his lap, rubbing between the tom's ears.

"I would be a great dad! I'm so young at heart!"

"And at mind." She muttered against the rim of her coffee cup. Twinkling blue eyes glanced up at Philip, who dignified her with a mature sticking-out-of-his-tongue. "I think that just proved my point, dear."

"Morning."

The couple looked up as a third figure shambled into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes, her long, red hair tousled around her face. Maria had been living with the couple for nearly six months and had become almost an extension of their little family.

"Actually, its afternoon." Phil pushed a heap of papers off one of the remaining chairs with his foot, almost dislodging Mini-Munk in the process. Maria pulled a face, sitting down and opening her arms. Immediately, the little tabby scrambled to her. "You little traitor!"

Maria gave him a smug look, Mini-Munk stretching lazily against her, his paws kneading the red-haired artist's shoulder. "Just because I have charm, personality and good looks doesn't mean you should be jealou...er...never mind." She waved imperiously, her eyes dancing with glee. "Continue being jealous."

"Maria, you're evil." Annie snickered.

She looked shocked. "No! I'm nice!"

"Keep telling yourself that. No one else would believe it." Phil grumbled, dusting toast crumbs and cat furs off his boxer shorts and chest. "Are you two going to come and lurk at the stage door or is the gallery actually open today?"

The brunette pulled a face. "Its open all right." She replied, laying down her pen. "I'm on floor duty this evening, cos they've got some big show from Japan opening. They need people to serve vol-au-vents and drinks and muggins got roped into it."

"Poor baba." Phil pouted at her. "Does the poor Annie-being have to work?"

"And the Maria-being." Maria sighed, shaking her head. "Its ridiculous, I'm telling you. No one should ever have to work."

Phil chuckled, rounding the table to go into the living room. "At least you don't have to dance for five hours today." He paused to drop a kiss on the top of Annie's head. "For all I know, I could be on for both shows and I'll be all tired when I get home..."

"In other words," Annie muttered conspiratorially to Maria. "He's going to use all the hot water when he gets home."

"Hey!" He protested, trying not to grin. "Would I do such a thing?"

Maria frowned, as if thinking hard. Her eyes glinted with mischief. "Well, you did when you were on for both shows of Starlight and you locked us both out of the flat so we couldn't stop you, dear."

"Would I do something that mean?"

Chuckling, Annie reached up to bring his lips down to hers. "Repeatedly." She replied.

Grumbling petulantly, the sandy-haired dancer stomped huffily off towards the bathroom to get dressed for work, leaving his brunette girlfriend and their flame-haired roommate chuckling in the kitchen.

***

"I am electric, feel my attraction...Scuse me! Coming through!" 

On brilliant blue roller skates, the dancer spun to a halt outside Covent Garden tube station, a grin on his face. He glanced down at his specialist footwear, the broad, plastic bands around his ankles invisible to the average observer.

If any fan of Starlight Express happened to pass by, though, they would easily recognise his stylised skates as those that mysteriously...vanished on the night that Phil Tennant had left the role of Bobo.

Jogging on the spot, he spun in a casual circle, glancing at his watch. He was meant to be meeting Menke and Demi for a coffee before the show, but – having skated instead of walked from the flat – he had reached their meeting spot early.

Reaching down into his massive pocket, he turned up the volume on his walkman, AC/DC blasting through his headphones, as he continued to boredly skate back and forth, his feet instinctively beginning to move in the familiar steps of the routine.

At least a dozen times in his run in the skating musical, Phil had been upgraded from the role of the French train to that of Electra and he knew the routine as well as he knew his own, much in the same way as he knew all his swing roles.

Despite being laden down with more clothing than a regular Starlight Express character would wear, he could still perform most of the steps, his jeans loose enough to allow a high-kick or two and he was grateful that - for a Tuesday afternoon - it was fairly quiet in Covent Garden.

Depositing his nearly empty rucksack on the ground at his feet, he cheerfully threw himself into the energetic routine out of sheer boredom, ending it with a dramatic spin, his arms spread at his sides.

In the silence between AC/DC and the next song on the CD, he became aware of muffled applause from nearby and looked around in surprise at a crowd gathered around him, hastily switching his CD player off.

His face flaming, he looked down at his rucksack, a pile of coins lying there. A slight grin made it onto his lips, and he bent and hastily gathered up the change. He shoved it in his pockets, swinging his rucksack onto his back and making a quick bow, receiving another smattering of applause from his audience.

"Nice to see you're not all about attention seeking, Phil." A familiar voice spoke from just inside the station. Phil twirled to come face-to-face with the smirking Menke. "Since you're such a hotshot, you can pay for coffee."

"Its not my fault!" Phil protested, unable to quash a grin. "Can I help it if they like me shaking my bonbon?"

Demi peered over her husband's shoulder, her gold eyes dancing. "You would probably have got a whole lot more if you were naked." She remarked dryly, then squealed in surprise when Phil smirked, peeling off his Starlight Express Bomber Jacket. "Phil!"

"What?" He gave her an innocent look. "I'm broke."

"But you can't strip in Covent Garden!"

He mulled over it for a few minutes, his brow wrinkled in thought. "You're right, of course, Dem." Sighing, he pulled his jacket back on properly. "I would have to start at Trafalgar Square and move up."

"You're terrible, Phil." Menke couldn't help laughing, as he brought his pregnant wife alongside him. She was almost six months along and was just starting to show. "I can't work out what Annie sees in you."

"It could be my wit." Phil gave them an angelic smile. "Or my large..."

"Large...?"

"Rubber duckie."

Demi snorted. "So that's what they're calling it now..."

"Of course." Phil flashed a devilish grin at her. "But, now, mes amis, shall we adjourn to the coffee house?"

"And get you jazzed on caffeine?" Menke's face twisted into an expression of worry.

The sandy-haired dancer grinned, showing all his teeth. "Zactly!"

***

"Yello?"

"Afternoon, Tommy-chuck!"

The Oriental dancer lowered the book she and her over were reading together. She was sitting against the arm of the couch, her left leg stretched along the cushions, her right dangling down, her toes twisting in the thick carpet.

Sylvie was sitting with her back resting comfortably against Tommy's chest, the dark-haired woman's right arm loosely looped under the blonde's firm breasts, Sylvie's fingers twined through hers.

"Good afternoon, Menke." The darker of the pair replied, smiling and shaking her head down at Sylvie, who tilted her head back to raise questioning eyebrows at Tommy. "What can I do you for?"

"Shouldn't that be how much can you do me for?" She could see his broad, impish grin and replied with a familiar and colourful expletive that drew a chuckle from him. "Such language from a little lady!"

"Wait til I get started, stripey."

"No time, Tommy-lady! I'm ringing to ask if Andy is there."

Chuckling, she retorted. "Where else would the big loon be, you daft bugger? He has a choice of his step-brother's box room or he has a cosy bed with a small and cosy person in it. I know which I would take."

"Only if I'm the small and cosy person in the bed." Sylvie murmured, teasingly nuzzling under Tommy's chin, receiving a swat from her lover. "Whaaaaat?" She whined plaintively, before receiving a silencing kiss from Tommy.

"So he's there then?" Menke was clearly trying to ignore the feminine giggling.

"Indeed he is. Want me to get him?"

"Actually, Tommy, you wonderful vixen of a person, you," She could hear someone egging him on in the background. "Phil and I were both wondering if you could break one or both of his legs in the next half an hour."

"Any reason why?"

There was a pause. "Well...uh...cos we want to go on as Munkustrap."

"And you want me to break his legs? Isn't that a bit drastic?"

"Break both of his legs...dislocate his shoulders by pushing him down the stairs...feed him a curry that has him on the toilet for a week...whatever works as long as Phil and I get a chance at playing the big stripy guy."

Tommy chuckled. "You two are very ambitious."

"Nope!" He replied. "We're just desperate not to be playing the kittens tonight. And everyone knows I'm the best Munkustrap anyway, so there's really not much of a point letting Andy go on while I work at the theatre."

"So modest."

"Aren't I just?"

"Fraid I can't help boys."

"CHICKEN!"

Tommy cleared her throat. "Menke, tell Phil I will choose to ignore that for the time being." She said calmly. "For his information, I'm not at all afraid of Andy, the management, or God striking me down with a lightening bolt. Tell him that I live with Blue and that's reason enough."

There was a brief moment of conference on the other end of the line before Menke spoke again. "We now agree that it would be far too dangerous for you to harm the lover of the endangered species of blue-haired kneecap-biters." He said gravely.

"Aaaaaaaaaaand?" She prompted.

"Is there any possible way you could make it look like an accident?" A voice spoke, muffled, to him on the other end of the line. "Phil suggests a roller skate at the top of the stairs is always a good option."

"No, I'm not helping Andy fall down the stairs." Stroking her girlfriend's cheek as she spoke, she laughed softly. "He can do it well enough on his own."

"Not even a little push?"

"Not even a breath of air."

"Spoilsport." Menke groused.

Tommy snickered. "Boy, you and Phil better hope and pray that neither of you have to face the Bomb-machine this afternoon." She smirked, as Sylvie steered one manicured hand to her breast. "You're going to pay for calling me names."

"Phil says you don't scare him."

Tommy's brow arched. "Remind him," She suggested, her smirk widening. "Of the summer of 1994, when he forgot to close the bathroom door properly, when Malcolm had just moved in with the pair of us."

There was a long silence.

"Okay. Phil says that he's justifiably scared of you. I, on the other hand, have no fear!"

"Matches your brains, sweetie."

"Did you just insult me?"

She chuckled. "Would I?" Menke snorted. "Well, sweets, sorry to talk and run, but I have a horny blonde with her boob rubbing against my hand, so you'll excuse me if I hang up right about now...and no! You can't watch!"

"Why on earth not?" Sylvie murmured, pulling herself up to the level of Tommy's face. "You're getting to be quite the prude."

Weaving her hands through Sylvie's long hair, she claimed the blonde's lips in a fierce kiss. "I only said no," She murmured. "Cos it would have taken them half an hour to get over here and I really don't wanna wait that long."

"Uh, guys?" Menke's voice rang through the phone. "We're still here."

"Never said you couldn't listen, sweetie." Tommy murmured huskily into the mouthpiece. 

In a matter of seconds, the phone rang off, the lovers chuckling as they sank down on the couch together.

***

"Guten afternoon, people-types!"

Jordan and Rachel looked up from the couch in the common area, both nodding a greeting to Phil and Menke as they entered. The two male dancers had just left Demi at Covent Garden minutes before and had reached the theatre in record time.

"How goes?" Menke added with a smile, snatching a drink from the counter.

"I'm pregnant." Rachel murmured serenely, a peaceful smile on her face. Menke's drink bounced all over his feet, soaking right through to his socks. Phil gawped, uttered an expletive and gawped some more. 

"Uh...how far on?"

Rolling her head on her shoulders, her body perched in her husband's lap, his arms around her, she touched her stomach lightly. "Three nights." She replied huskily, Jordan's hand overlaying hers.

Menke and Phil exchanged looks and rolled their eyes. "There has to be something in that wall." Phil remarked dryly.

"Going to show it to Annie?" The black- and silver-haired dancer suggested with a wicked grin.

"Actually, no." He pulled a face at his friend. "For some reason, she doesn't think I'm mature enough to be a father yet."

Menke feigned shock. "I can't imagine where she gets that idea from!"

"Shut it you." Phil tried not to grin and failed. "So, guys, who knows whose on tonight?"

Jordan looked up from placing gentle kisses to his wife's neck. "I'm not on for a couple of days." He said. "I sprained my ankle last night during the Ball." Raising his right foot, he waved it as emphasis. "Looks like one of you two will be on."

"Spiffy! Coricosplat is one of my specialities!" Phil rubbed his hands together eagerly. "I've played him before."

Jordan's pierced eyebrow rose. "What did you call him?"

"Uh...Corico...pat?"

"May I remind you that he is my character." Stone-faced, Jordan's eyes revealed nothing. "I would advise you to play him seriously. No messing with the make-up. No smiling. No stealing sweets from children."

"But I..."

"No stealing sweets from children."

"Not even...?"

"NO stealing sweets from children."

Phil pouted. "But with the make-up and the staring, they get freaked and feed you to make you go away!"

"You're missing the point, Phil." Rachel remarked, running a hand over her husband's head with a smile. "You're meant to keep freaking them until they start crying. You're not meant to give into bribery."

Phil's face fell. "Oh."

"Cheer up, Phil." Menke nudged his friend cheerfully. "I'm sure that a smiling, naughty Coricopat is a... very... normal...th...thing..." He slowly trailed off as Jordan's cool stare turned towards him. "Uh...on the other hand, maybe not."

Phil had backed behind the taller dancer. "Menke..." He whimpered. "He's scaring me...can we go and hide in warm-ups already..."

The older dancer seemed to agree with this assessment of the situation, both he and Phil backing away towards the door and gripping each other's hands, staring at Jordan with sheer terror on their faces.

As the door closed, Rachel turned to her husband and kissed the tip of his nose. "You really are far too good at that."

"Naturally." He murmured, reaching up to kiss her gently. "Make sure you scare them for me during the show. I'll try and get tickets..."

"See you later, hon." With a last kiss, she got to her feet and ran after the two other dancers for the warm-ups. Jordan chuckled, getting to his feet and gathering his crutches up to hop towards the door.

***

"Mind if I sit down here?"

Leo raised a brow. "Aren't you meant to be on in, what? Twenty minutes?"

"Probably."

"Any reason you're sitting down here?"

"Can't face sitting up there."

Leo gave him a sympathetic look. "Makes sense. Make yourself at home. And don't get make-up on the furniture."

"Thanks, man."

"Not a problem."

***

"Phil?"

"Menke!" Covering her chest with both hands, Joely squealed. 

The older dancer winked at her, his face make-up free. "Looking good, Jo." He glanced around the room. "Have any of you lovely ladies seen Phil?"

"Not unless he's hiding under our desks, Menke." Miranda replied. She had arrived late because of a family emergency and her two-piece Armani suit was in the process of being stripped off.

Leona Wallace, the new Jennyanydots, shrugged. "Last I saw was when he was being given his role. Sorry Menke."

The black and silver haired dancer groaned. "This is typical! If I don't drag him up to the stage area soon, we won't have a Tugger this afternoon!" 

"Any reason why?" Rachel asked.

Menke nodded. "He's the only swing, apart from me, who could play Tugger today and I can't, cos my costume isn't ready yet and all the other Tuggers and Tugger understudies are so skinny I can't fit into their costumes, so he's the only one we have left." He looked at the four women. "If you see him, tell him we need to see him in the green room."

"Sure, Menke." Rachel replied, in the final stages of her make-up. 

She and Ron Watts, the new Coricopat understudy had done an extra run through of some of their routines after the warm-ups, just to boost his confidence a little, which meant she was one of the last to start doing her make-up.

Making sure the door was shut after the dancer, Joely lowered her hands. "I hate it when they do that!" She exclaimed, then released an ear-splitting shriek when Menke flung the door open again and there was a click and flash. "Menke!"

"Still lookin' perky, Jo!" He called, laughing, before disappearing out into the hall again, his camera in hand.

"Note to self, kill him slowly and painfully after the show." She scowled at her reflection in the mirror, then reached for her burgundy unitard which was hanging over the back of her chair, waiting to be donned.

Miranda snickered. "You could always start wearing a bra under your costume, Jo." She suggested, blue eyes dancing. "It would make it a bit harder for him to get pictures of you half naked, y'know."

"Wear a bra?" Rachel pretended to look horrified, pulling her own unitard on quickly. "When her boobs are flatter than pancakes? Surely that's a bit too much effort...I mean, putting on one extra piece of clothing..."

Giving the two women a look that was pure Cassandra, the dancer's lip curled. "I don't find that very amusing."

"Well we do!" Miranda shouted with laughter. Rachel nodded and grinned, Leona chuckling to herself as she dusted the powder from her final attempt at the make-up and the first she had actually liked.

Pulling a face at the trio, Joely sat down on her seat, bending at the waist and smoothing the legs of her costume to remove any unsightly wrinkles. "And to think that everyone outside this room thinks that you three are the wise, mature ladies..."

"I am!" Miranda grinned, adding her brows. "I'll have you know that I'm a consummate professional! I even wear Armani!" She smirked, leaning back from the mirror. "And hot damn, I look good in it too!"

It was true.

Miranda – prior to her arrival at Cats – had worked in modelling as well as being a classically trained Opera singer, although she had been told as a teenager that she was simply too tall to be a ballet dancer, her dream career. 

In spite of that, she had still learned ballet, tap and jazz dancing, although her voice skills had gradually taken precedence, as she developed a reputation as a classical singer with a powerful three-octave range voice.

Her looks helped there as well.

Statuesque, with a stunning, hourglass figure, deep blue eyes and always impeccably groomed golden hair, she always turned up for work wearing business suits, which meant that she was regularly ignored by fans at the stage door as she departed. 

Most seemed to think she was someone at management level and only the incredibly alert ever realised who she actually was. Fortunately as she saw it, she looked so professional that most people backed away in terror, lest she sue them for blocking her path.

"Randa, I hate to remind you, but you also wear a bodice and feathery trousers and sing to a pirate in Italian." Leona put in dryly, eyes dancing with mischief. 

Miranda sniffed. "And your point is?"

"That you aren't exactly the most normal of people."

"Preaching to the converted, sweets." The golden haired singer cooed, finishing her make-up and grabbing the powder puff and dashing powder all over her face. 

As the powder cloud around her head dispersed and the powder settled on her face, she started singing scales to warm up her voice, in preparation for the show, as she removed her black skirt and carefully hung it up. 

It went without saying that it looked very strange: Her golden hair caught in a wig-cap, her face covered in white powder and her body clad only in a large and very loose England football shirt and black tights, while she warbled her way through three octaves of scales.

"And she says she's a professional." Joely muttered under her breath.

***

"Its your first night on as Mungojerrie!" A hand pretending to be a microphone was thrust under Adam Lanai's nose by Nicky Jonson, the shortest of the male dancers backed up by the other kittens, all of whom were grinning widely at the new Mungojerrie. "How do you feel?"

"Like I need to puke all over the front of a certain Carbucketty's pretty costume." The young Phillipino Dancer replied, wiping his sweaty palms down the front of his unitard.

Jenni threw a friendly arm around his neck, grinning at him. "Don't you be a-worryin' about it, guv'na!" She cooed, cheerfully. "Oi'll be dere wit' ya and Oi'll be makin' sure you ain't not trippin' on yer tail"

"I don't think that was quite the comfort he was looking for, Jen." Steffi drawled, chuckling. "On the plus side, Adam, you got through rehearsals without falling for any of Menke and Andy's booby traps."

"Unlike...well...everyone else." A softly-accented voice added, slightly Jamaican in origin, the pile of kittens spinning to find the new Gus standing there, smiling. 

Senke Jorik was the least likely Gus to ever tread the New London stage, with a frightening mass of dreadlocks hanging – uncontrolled – over his handsome, dark face. 

Or at least, they had hung to his waist until he had been cast, then he been forced to shave his head for the first time in twenty years.

Most of the cast had been astounded to learn that – between singing for fun in various musical groups and being an actor in the Royal Shakespeare company – he had found time several years earlier to earn a doctorate in Psychology and Philosophy at Oxford.

"Hey! Gusmon!" The fond nickname had been given to him during rehearsals, where he continually had lapsed into character to chastise the kittens who were 'playing' too enthusiastically. 

"Ya, mon?" He flashed a brilliant grin at them. "Dats what you be wantin' to hear, eh, mon?"

Georgina cracked up, leaning against Steffi. "Oh man...a rastafarian Gus..."

"Hey, mon," Exaggerating his native accent, the dark-skinned actor smiled broadly, his make-up looking strangely natural on his features. "You be tinkin' dat di Growltiger is h'escapin' from di pirates of di Caribbean?"

"And to think that I ever thought it was hard working with John..." Malcolm groaned, shaking his head miserably. "All I want is one show when I can keep a straight face..."

Nicky Jonson punched the Goth fondly on the arm. "Mal, you're a kitten." He reminded him playfully. "You're allowed to grin when...er...Mal?" Blue eyes blinked at him innocently. "How long have you been doing your make-up like that?"

"Like what?" All eyes turned to the tallest kitten in the group's face. Malcolm took a nervous step backwards. "What?"

"Is it meant to look that good?" Adam inquired. "I thought Bill Bailey was meant to have a boring square of brown and that was it..."

"He was." Nicky nodded. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinised Malcolm's make-up. The brown patch on the right side of his face was no longer a random blob. Instead, the edges had been given a strangely 'furry' look that blended smoothly into the white. 

The delicate lines surrounding his pale blue eyes had been thinned and neatened, making his eyes look frighteningly feline. The corners of his lips had risen in an awkward grin as he tried to edge out of the group and make his escape.

"I...uh...was experimenting...that's all..."

"You're trying to make my brother look bad!" Nicky screeched vehemently, swatting at Malcolm's wig. "You're gonna pay for that!"

"Is that so, short stuff?" A deep voice rumbled from above the smallest dancer and he nervously raised his eyes, to find Raymond looking down at him, a barely masked smirk on his black and white features.

Reaching up, the smallest of the group hastily smooth the fluff of wig Malcolm was wearing. "In as nice a way as possible, Ray." He flashed a cheesy grin at the bigger dancer, then darted off and out of sight.

"Gotta love having a big boyfriend." Malcolm chuckled, looping an arm around Raymond's narrow waist. Raymond simply chuckled.

***

"Menke Strep contact stage door. Menke Strap contact stage door."

The phone on the desk rang almost instantly and Leo picked it up. "Stage door."

"What's up, Leo? Better be important." Menke demanded raggedly. He sounded like he had been running around, breathless, his voice clipped and sharp and, on the whole, he sounded like he was ready to go crazy.

"You're missing a certain Tugger character, aren't you?" Menke's garbled sentences contained sounds of confusions, explicit expletives and general urgency. "I'd suggest you get down to stage door."

"Leo, I don't have...what do you mean?"

"Think – how else would I know that one of the cast was missing?"

The telephone went dead instantly and Leo replaced the receiver in it's cradle with a chuckle. Less than two minutes later, footsteps could be heard thundering down the long flights of stairs from the dressing rooms.

"Okay..." Panting, Menke fell against the desk. "Where...?"

Leo simply nodded towards the closed door by the desk that opened into the fire man's sleeping room and into Leo's little 'box' of an office. Menke stared at him and the door man nodded with a smile.

Yanking the door open, the dancer gawped in surprise. 

Sitting on the small bed in the dimly-lit room, Annie Lawson was sitting in the costume-decked Phil's lap, his arms around her waist and his face buried in her neck. The artist looked up at him with a faint smile.

"Hey Menke." She murmured, the fingers of her right hand stroking the nape of Phil's neck gently. "Wondered when you'd get here."

"Um...what's going on?"

Phil lifted pale blue eyes. "I'm on as Tugger this afternoon and tonight, Menke...you know I've never played him..." He shuddered. "Any other role, I could do with my eyes closed, but no... my first proper night back and I end up playing him."

"Nervous?"

"Petrified."

Menke joined the couple on the bed, wrapping an arm fondly around Phil's shoulder. "You'll be fine, Phil. If you can play Munk and Electra, then Tugger should be no problem." He looked up at the woman in Phil's lap. "And you, Miss Lawson, I thought you were meant to be working."

"I was on my way." She gave him a weak grin.

"And you took the tube, changed stations three times to get on a different line and accidentally walked into the stage door?"

"Technically, you could put it like that..." Running a hand over Phil's wig, she smiled down at him. "I dropped in to wish him luck and Leo told me I should come in here. I did and my dear little dumbie was sitting in here, looking miserable."

"And instead of telling him to get off his arse and upstairs in time for the show, you walk in and sit on him?"

Phil smiled faintly up at his lover. "She was trying to seduce me...told me she'd never had a Tugger before..."

"Annie, you and your chat-up lines never fail to amuse me." Menke snickered. Annie pulled a face at him. "Phil, c'mon. You have to come upstairs. We need you."

"And you say my chat-up lines are bad?"

"Shut up, Annie."

She blew a wet raspberry at him.

"How about it, Phil?" Menke's green eyes were pleading, a near-pout on his lips. "If you're not up with us in five minutes, we won't have anyone to tip Tommy on her bum and embarrass her during Tugger's song."

"Embarrass Tommy?"

"Thought that might interest you."

Phil's lips curled in a grin, his eyes sparkling with glee. "You know, Menke, you always seem to know the right things to say to make us get our arses in gear."

Getting to his feet, Menke laughed. "Let's just say that's my talent, Phil-bo." He waited for the younger dancer to get to his feet, receiving a light kiss from Annie. "Shall we ascend to the Heaviside, my dear chap?"

"As you wish." Phil chuckled.

Menke grinned widely. "Oh, Phil! I didn't know you felt that way about me!" He cooed, prancing out of the room.

"What's he talking about?" Annie muttered.

Phil shrugged. "I have no idea, but I think its probably safer not knowing."

***

"Never let me do that again."

The evening show had just finished and Phil was twitching as he took his mane off. Menke gave him an amused look. "Whyever not?" He inquired, wiping off his make-up with one of the baby wipes from the box on the desk. 

The silver and black-haired dancer had been forced to change and run on as Alonzo in the second half when Raymond had taken a bad fall when going down the back of the set during the lead in to Growltiger's Last Stand and hurt his calf.

Phil scowled sulkily at his friend. Menke had just moved into the same dressing room as him and two other male swings and Phil was starting to wish his long-time best friend hadn't. "Because I was Tugger."

"And that's a bad thing why?"

"I was Tugger. Enough said."

Ron, the brown-haired teenager who was the most recent swing acquisition, raised a brow. "I think you did good."

"You didn't have to deal with Tommy grabbing you by the butt any time you walked past her or by your front when no one was looking." Phil grumbled. "And if she wasn't bad enough, I had Jordan to annoy me as well."

"Jordan?" Menke and Ron exchanged glances. "Was he there?"

Phil's scowl deepened. "The poncy git was sitting right where I ran out into the audience," He replied sulkily. "He made sure I saw him then he stared at me and when people stare at me, I have to stare back...and it was Jordan..."

"He won, didn't he?" Ron laughed.

"Doesn't he always? Its like he has some weird control of his eyes that he can stop them from doing anything at all." The sandy-haired dancer complained. "I tried everything to get him to crack, but he just sat and stared and stared and stared and stared..."

"And that's what makes a Gumbie cat," Menke cheerfully sang. "That's what makes a Gu-um-bie caaaaaaaaaaaaaat!"

Ron gave Menke a puzzled look, then turned to Phil. "Is he always like this?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Phil rolled his eyes expressively as Menke bounced over and rubbed his head up the younger dancer's arm, making a sound strangely like a purr. "I'm pretty sure the midwife dropped him on his head."

"Actually," The oldest of the trio straightened up with a grin. "She took one look at me and slapped my mother."

"And the worrying thing is that I can believe that." Ron muttered.

Menke grinned broadly, wiping off the last traces of his make-up and pulling his hair free from the loose ponytail at the base of his neck, letting it spill around his broad shoulders. "Well, mam always did say dorfin bol ridgier."

"Eh?"

"That sounded like Afrikaaner." Phil remarked.

"Actually," The green-eyed dancer laughed. "That was gibberish, but its funny watching you trying to pretend to be smart, mate." Phil waved a single finger at him. Menke looked at it. "Y'know, I always wondered why it was that finger that was considered rude..." He raised a thumb. "I mean, this isn't rude, but that is... why?"

Ron opened his mouth to ask a question and Phil raised a hand, guessing what he was about to ask. "Yes, Ron, he always does that too. I think the strangest one was when he asked why sodomy was called that."

"I still think its cos the first person who had it done yelled 'Sod! Oh...meeeeee....!' and it took its name from that."

"Why 'Oh meeeeee?'?" Phil asked with a grin, clearly knowing the answer, but wanting to tease the long-haired dancer.

Menke sniffed. "Because, obviously, he was either dating someone whose name sounded like 'me' or he was completely in love with himself." He frowned slightly. "Or he was dating someone called Sod and he was a Geordie about to comment on a part of his anatomy, like 'me willy' or 'me arse'."

"And the worrying thing is that it actually does make some sense." Phil noted.

"Shocking, isn't it?"

"Positively terrifying, Menke."

"And I'm a genius, aren't I?"

"Positively not, Menke."

The black- and silver-haired dancer snickered, pulling a T-shirt over his head and smoothing it down over his chest. "One day, you'll admit I am, Phil, and when that day comes..." He gave them a knowing grin.

"What?" Phil asked, dreading the answer.

"You'll all be bowing down to me on my kushy throne, for my evil plot to take over the world will be complete!" Releasing a bout of maniacal laughter, he marched out of the dressing room, leaving the two staring after him.

Two minutes later he marched back in, just as impressively. 

"Forgot my trousers." Was all he said.


	18. The Cast - Part 18 - The Space Between

"Afternoon, all!"

"Andy!"

"You bloody idiot!"

"Where the hell have you been?"

The brunette froze in the doorway, his hand still raised in cheerful greeting. Tommy, Jordan and Rachel were all on their feet and glaring at him, all of them in make-up and wigless. "Uh…what did I do?" He asked uncomfortably.

"You left us with a maniac!" Tommy snapped.

"Maniac?"

"Your fiancée!" She replied, prowling towards him. "Tell me, were you born stupid, or are we just bloody unlucky?"

Taking a wary step back, Andy stared dubiously at her. "Tommy, I don't have a clue what you're talking about. The shrimp seemed fine when I spoke to her on the phone this morning."

"Seeming fine and being fine are two very different things." Rachel murmured, approaching with her husband. Jordan's face was actually showing some measure of anger, which was a first for the calm man. 

"Uh…"

Tommy grabbed Andy's arm and propelled him into the room forcefully, slamming the door behind him. "The kid is pissed off about something, Andy. I dunno what you said to her, but since she called you, she has been spitting mad."

"Blue? Angry about something?"

"Angry about something YOU did, actually." Jordan corrected coolly.

"Eh? What did I do?"

"You didn't show up for the matinee, that's all." Tommy put in icily, steering him back into a seat and placing her hands on the arms of the chair, looming over him intimidatingly. "She asked you to come!"

"I still wasn't feeling too well."

"Andy, she specifically asked you to come in today." Rachel said. She was standing behind him and laid her hands on his shoulders. "How often does she actually ask you to come to work?"

"But I still wasn't feeling well." He repeated. 

"Andy," Tommy caught his chin in her hand. "Blue asked you to come in. You said no. You didn't show, when she needed to see you." A grimace crossed her face. "For some reason, we had Kashka back on stage when she went on today. She scared the crap outta anyone who even tried to go near her."

"Blue? Scaring people?"

"She made Raymond cry, for Chrissake!"

Andy's jaw dropped. "How?" He demanded.

"When he tried to cheer her up and cuddle up beside her like he always does when you're not about, she actually slapped him and told him to piss off." Tommy replied, her expression darkening.

"Shorty slapped Ray?" Andy paled.

"Shorty did just that." Jordan nodded grimly. "I would have tried to talk to her, but when even Bomba won't go near our Deme, there's nothing that Coricopat can do about it."

"Menke said that she wouldn't even let him touch her, when they were doing the Munk and Dem snuggle moments." Rachel put in. "Whatever you did to upset her, Andy, you better undo it and get a bloody move on about it."

"But she sounded all right when I spoke to her this morning…"

"And what did she say to you?" Jordan, standing behind the seat, crossed his arms over his chest. "Was it something along the lines of 'Please come in today. I need to talk to you, Andy.'?"

"Um…"

"That would be a yes?" Rachel murmured.

"Actually, yeah…"

Tommy pinched the bridge of her nose, groaning. "Andy, you know the kid as well as I do now, and when she says please to you or me, you know that she's seriously needing something."

"But I wasn't feeling well." He protested weakly. 

"Seriously?"

"Well, I almost passed out when I tried to stand up…"

"Is that all?"

Andy exhaled a long breath. "If I had even thought about it, I would have come in during the show. I honestly didn't think it would be anything serious. She knows I haven't been well all week…"

"Which should have dropped a hint or two that she was talking about something important when she asks you to drag your sick arse down here." Tommy shook her head. "Your flu remedies have filled your head with fluff, Andy."

"Think I should go and find her?"

"That would be a great big duh." Tommy replied.

Pushing past the Oriental-looking dancer, Andy straightened his jacket. "Wish me luck." He said, staring in the direction of Blue's dressing room. "Something tells me I'm going to need it."

***

"But she…" Burying his face in Malcolm's shoulder, his little lover sitting in his lap, Raymond whimpered. "She's never been mad at me before, hon. She's never hit me before…or told me to piss off…"

Malcolm ran a hand over his boyfriend's springy, dark hair. "I think she was just having a bad day, Ray." He said, his other hand lifting Raymond's chin and wiping the tears from his cheeks, the black and white make-up smudged. "It's not your fault."

"But hon…"

"Ray, shush. You didn't upset her." Kissing his boyfriend's brow, Malcolm drew the bigger dancer's head against his shoulder, his fingers massaging the taut expanse of Raymond's thick neck. "She's just having a bad day."

"It ain't me, then? I ain't pissin' everyone off?"

Malcolm couldn't help smiling slightly. "Ray, just cos people have bad days, it doesn't mean that they all have to be your fault."

"You're positive?"

"Have I ever been wrong before?"

Raymond chuckled softly. "Well, there was that time that you dumped me…"

"When I was convinced the doctors were about to murder me, by poking me with needles and giving me a bloody heart attack." Malcolm murmured against Raymond's temple. "I had good reason."

"Plus, you're a little ass." Raymond cuddled him closer.

"Your little ass, Ray." The smaller dancer replied with a small smile, his arms loosely around his lover's shoulders and neck, the silk-smooth skin rippling over the bulging muscles. "Only ever your ass."

"You better be." Raymond muttered sleepily. "I'd hate to have to be in a pissy mood with you."

"Ray, look at your finger."

"Which one?"

"Left hand, ring finger."

"It don't have a ring on it, hon."

Malcolm nodded. "Not yet, Ray, but tomorrow morning, or early afternoon, or whenever you drag your sorry bum out of my bed, you and I are going shopping and we're gonna see if we can find you a nice ring."

"Huh?"

"Well, we did get engaged when I was in hospital." Malcolm murmured.

Brown eyes stared up at him, bigger than usual. "You…you were serious?"

"Never more so." Blue eyes met brown. "Love you, Ray."

"Oh God…Hon…I love you too!" Wrapping his arms around Malcolm, the big American dancer pulled him down for a kiss, his tears starting afresh and for a whole different reason.

***

"Don't let her get me!" 

Andy had barely stepped into the hall lined with dressing rooms when a large, sweaty, stripy figure slammed into him, knocking the wind out of him and clutching him until he thought every one of his ribs would break.

"M-Menke?" He managed to wheeze.

The fully costumed dancer nodded, then leapt behind Andy, steering the brunette forward forcefully. "You can go in front." He announced firmly. "She likes you more than she likes me."

"Huh?"

"Just make sure you warn me when she charges." Menke continued. "I want to have enough warning so I have a decent head start, when she's finished ripping your spleen out with her bare hands."

"What are…"

"And make sure that you keep her busy as long as possible, cos I'm just too young and too good-looking to die." 

Slamming his hands against the walls on either side of him, Andy forced himself to a halt, his trainers squeaking on the floor as Menke continued to push against his back determinedly. "Menke, what the hell are you going on about?"

"And when she comes out, don't be scared…I'm sure she's not as dangerous as she looks." There was a pause. "Although, there is the chance that I might be horribly mistaken and she could come at you with a chainsaw…"

"MENKE!"

The costumed dancer paused. "Uh, yes?"

"What or who are you talking about?"

Menke gave him a stunned look. "Andy, your fiancée is in that dressing room." He pointed to the door ahead of them. "As far as we know, she's unarmed, but - like I said - there is a chance she snuck in some kind of weapon. My bets are on a chainsaw and if not that, a rocket launcher."

"Blue?!?"

"No, the psychopath who has taken her body." Menke replied. "Andy, whatever you did, you better sort it with the kid, before we have to get the men in white coats to come and take her away…or the police to arrest her for your bloody murder."

Andy swallowed hard. Having being told the same thing by everyone he had passed, he was starting to think things were a good deal more serious than he had assumed after Tommy's lecture.

"Okay. I'll…I'll talk to her."

"You do have a bullet proof vest?"

"She can't be that bad." Menke's expression spoke measures. "Okay, I'll be careful then, Menke."

"I don't give a crap either way." The costumed man replied. "I get to play Munk if you snuff it, or if she breaks both your legs." He squeezed Andy's shoulder. "Just make sure we get our sweet Dem back."

"Your generous concern for my wellbeing overwhelms me," Andy muttered.

"I thought it might." Menke grinned, hurriedly backing away down the hall as Andy laid his hand on the handle of the door. "Good luck, Andy. I think you're going to need it."

"Thanks." Andy replied grimly, opening the door.

***

"So he's gone in to see her?" Phil had just ushered his girlfriend up, into the dancer's relaxation area and had immediately found a whole group of very anxious-looking dancers sitting silently together.

"Apparently." Tommy replied, trying to look like she was engrossed in the book she was holding. The illusion would have been better served if the book had not been upside down.

Raymond had stopped crying, but his boyfriend was still cradled in his lap, his brown and white make-up somewhat smudged around his lips. "I just wanna know that the tiny person is okay." He mumbled.

"She'll be all right, when Andy's spoken with her." Rachel said softly. She was leaning against her husband, her head on his shoulder. The couple was wearing matching white vests and navy tracksuit bottoms.

"Ya think?" Tommy said. "You didn't have to deal with her since breakfast."

"Do you think she could stay mad at him for long?"

Tommy raised a brow. "Do you think she couldn't?" Her attention turned to Annie for a long moment. "And this better not get online anywhere."

Annie nodded. "It won't, I swear." She forced a smile. "Anyway, who would believe me if I told them Blue was a psychopath?"

"That's a valid point." Malcolm remarked, his hand moving lazily on Raymond's dark hair.

"As long as we don't have to explain the severely pummeled brunette body that has been discovered in her dressing room, I think we'll be fine." Jordan added, his arm around his wife's slim shoulders.

"Don't even say that." Tommy muttered. "Just…don't."

***

"I said to leave me the hell alone!"

Andy paused at the door, peering into the room. Blue was seated against the far wall, her bare knees pulled up to her T-shirt clad chest, her hands wound into her shock of electric blue hair.

"Shorty?"

Her twisting hands froze where they were. "So you decided to show up after all, did you?" Her voice was a monotone croak. "Well, you can just turn and walk back out. I don't need you here anymore."

Pushing the door quietly closed behind him, Andy took a step towards her. "Blue, love, I'm sorry."

"I said go away." She said.

"Blue, please."

"GO AWAY! Get out! Leave me alone!" She screamed at him. A small, hard, round object flew from one of her hands and hit him on the face. "Go away and take that with you!"

Looking down at the missile that had landed at his feet, after opening a cut on his cheek, Andy felt his heart wrench. He squatted down and picked up the engagement ring, placing it in his suddenly shaking right hand. 

"Blue…"

"Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout…" She chanted in a shaking sob, her face invisible, concealed by her arms.

"Blue, no." Going down on his knees, he crawled the short distance to her side and touched one of her slender arms. She tried to pull away, rocking violently. "I can't leave you. Not like this."

"I don't need you now…I don't need you…you weren't here when I did…I don't need you anymore…" She scooted across the floor, away from him. "Go away. Leave me alone. Leave me alone."

"Blue…"

"Shut up!" Her head snapped up, tears pouring down her face. "Stop saying my name like you're sorry! Like you care! You don't know…you didn't come here…I needed you and you didn't…" She buried her head back in her arms, sobbing.

Looking at the ring in his hand, Andy felt tears stinging his eyes. "I am sorry, love. I didn't realise. I'm stupid and I didn't think that something would be wrong." He moved closer to her and caught her left hand. She tried to pull away, whimpering, but he slipped the ring back on her finger. "I want you to keep this. Even if you don't want me anymore, I want you to know that I still love you and I'm so sorry that I wasn't here for you."

"You promised, Andy…you promised you would always be here for me when I needed you…" Blue eyes stared at him, filled with so much pain and misery that he visibly flinched. "You promised…"

"I know, love. I know." He cupped her face gently in his hand. "I'm sorry. I truly am. It'll never happen again, I swear on everything. I…I just didn't think…I was so tired… I…God, I'm so sorry, love." He drew his hand away from her. "I don't even deserve to be near you. I love you so much and I still manage to be such an idiot and hurt you like this…"

The tiny dancer drew her left hand towards her and stared at the ring again, tears still splashing down her make-up smeared cheeks. Her eyes rose to the cut on his face and the blood it had left.

"Andy…" Before he could reply or even move, she was in his waiting arms, sobbing furiously against his chest, her whole delicate, little frame shaking with the violence of her sobs.

Holding her close to his body, uncaring of the tears and make-up smearing on his shirt, Andy rocked her, his fingers smoothing her hair and stroking her back gently, pressing kisses to her brow and temples as she continued to cry bitterly.

It seemed like an eternity before her sobs trailed off, her arms still around him.

"What did you need to see me for, Shorty?"

She didn't look at him, but motioned to her scruffy rucksack that was sitting beside them. "The front pocket." She whispered, her voice strained and raw from crying. "I put the envelope in there…"

Still holding her securely against his chest with his left arm, he reached over to the bag and withdrew a formal looking white envelope. The top had been torn open and he fumbled with his fingers to withdraw the sheets inside, shaking them open.

"Oh God…"

"I…I didn't know what to do…I wanted to tell you first…I didn't want to be on my own…I…I couldn't tell Tommy…" She was shivering again, clinging to him as if her were her anchor.

"Love, if I had had any idea that it had arrived…" Dropping the sheaf of papers, Andy gathered his fiancée up in his arms holding her as tightly as he dared. "Will you be okay…?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out and she shook her head. "I-I'm scared, Andy." She whispered several seconds later. "Wh-what if he gets away with it? What if they don't believe me? What if he comes for me again? What if he takes me away from you?" 

"No one could do that, Shorty." Andy promised, more sincerely than he had ever promised anything in his life. "You're my fiancée now and by the time we get to those dates, you're going to be my wife."

"B-but the trial…it starts in two weeks…"

"Then we'll get married in one." He hugged her warmly and kissed her brow. "I can't let you go and stand trial without me beside you. How better can we show that you're mine and special than by having you being my mini-wifelet?"

"But…"

Andy smothered her protests with his fingertips, then caressed her cheek. "Even if we have to take the smallest Church in the whole bloody country, we're going to get hitched, complete with bridemaids and minions and everything."

"Really?"

He nodded with a smile. "I love you and its about time I let everyone else know and nothing says love better than you in a funny white frock, a man in a black dress with a white collar, the bride knocking the best man out with her bouquet, the bridesmaid getting laid by the father, who is married to the bride's aunt and people getting drunk and throwing up all over the garden."

"You haven't been to many weddings, have you?"

Andy grinned weakly. "You haven't met my family yet, Shorty. When you do, all that I have said will make perfect sense."

"One thing."

"Yeah?"

"We don't have a garden."

***

"Where's Joseph?" Leon's dark head jutted around the door.

"Uh?" 

The common area had almost been deserted.

In one corner, Annie was cheerfully chatting with Malcolm and Raymond. Tommy had been called off to join Blue and Andy and everyone else had decided it was time to take advantage of the couple of hours between the shows.

Both of the dancers had turned at the sound of the doorman's voice, puzzled. They had heard him calling on the intercom a short while earlier, but had assumed that Joseph had replied.

Leon looked around. "I couldn't get him on the phone, so I thought he might be kicking about in here." He replied. There's a little kid down at stage door. She did a picture of Mistoffelees and she wants to give it to him."

"Try his dress…" Malcolm stopped short, as the blond American emerged from the dressing room he shared with Adam Lanai, the new Mungojerrie, and the unfortunate Nicky Johnson.

"Joseph! Am I glad I caught you!"

Joseph halted, his nose wrinkling. As usual, he was wearing a thick, padded jacket and a heavy woolen scarf, his hands enclosed in colourful gloves. "What is it this time?" He demanded with an unenthusiastic sigh.

"There's a little girl down at stage door. She's only six or so and she did a lovely picture for you."

The wrinkles on the American's perfect, freckled nose deepened. "Another fan with more of their crappy art?" He asked, a visible shudder passing through him. "That's it. I'm going out the front way."

"But she's just a little girl, Joseph!" Malcolm protested, kneeling up on the couch to stare at the other dancer in disbelief. "You can't disappoint a little kid!"

"I didn't ask to be as good as I am!" Joseph replied sharply. "I didn't ask for little kids to start doing fingerpaintings for me!" He snorted once more and stalked towards the door, slamming it firmly behind him.

Malcolm stared after him in disbelief. "That tight-arsed little bastard…He can't do that to a kid…" He slowly shook his head. An idea seemed to hit him and he leapt to his feet. "Leon," The doorman had been staring after the other dancer as well, shocked by his callousness. "Go down and tell the kid that Misto will be down in five minutes. He was just having a nap after doing his magic…"

"But Jo isn't…"

"Jo isn't about to do a thing." Malcolm replied over his shoulder, sprinting towards his dressing room. "Five minutes." He called. "Tell her five minutes!"

***

Gripping her mother's hand, Teresa shuffled her feet nervously. Colourful ribbons bobbed on the end of the braids that dangled all over her small head and she hoped that she looked pretty enough.

The nice man at the door had told her that Mister Mistoffelees would be down in a few minutes to see her and she hugged the picture she had done extra tightly, looking up at her mother.

"Do I look pretty, mummy?" She asked quietly.

"You always do, sweetie." Her mother patted her braided black hair fondly, making the little girl smile brightly. "Sh! Listen! Do you hear that?"

Footsteps were coming closer.

Teresa held her mother's dark brown hand more tightly and watched the corner that lead to the stairs. A curious black and white face peered around the corner and bright blue eyes found Teresa's face.

"Presto!" A black and white body pirouetted out and Mistoffelees bowed to the little girl, smiling. "I heard that you wanted to meet me."

Teresa stared at the cat. He was sparkly, just like he was when he danced! He looked like he had little diamonds all over his costume and his mane shimmered in the faded light of the stage door area.

"Go on, sweetie." Her mother prompted gently, pushing her towards him. "Show him what you made for him. Don't be shy."

Teresa pulled her mother with her, hiding her face behind her mother's hand. "I made this for you." She mumbled timidly, holding out the picture that she had done for him with her new paints and coloured pencils.

Mistoffelees carefully took the picture and stared at it. "Wow!" He touched the face of the picture. "This is amazing!" He looked down at her. "You did all of this by yourself?" She nodded. "You're quite an artist, aren't you?"

Teresa blushed. "Well, you're my favourite cat and I…I wanted to do something nice for you."

"This is lovely." Kneeling down he opened his arms. "And do I get a hug with it?"

Teresa paused for less than a heartbeat before pulling away from her mother's hand and throwing herself eagerly into the black and white cat's arms, hugging him tightly, almost crying. 

"And," He whispered. "Would the little lady like a picture with me?"

"Mummy, can I have a picture with Mister Mistoffelees?" Teresa asked eagerly, but her mother looked crestfallen, shaking her head.

"We don't have a camera, sweetie." She said apologetically.

"Oh." Teresa's face fell, her lip trembling.

"Wait a second…" Mistoffelees said, his arm still around her. "Leon, can you call upstairs and see if Munkustrap has his instant camera thing with him and ask him if he can send someone down with it?"

"Sure." 

Mistoffelees smiled. "Thanks." 

Less than five minutes later, footsteps clattered down the stairs and a big man ran around the corner. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and had long, brown hair. "I think I could take a little picture if you like." He said.

"You don't have to do this." Teresa heard her mother say.

"But we want to." Mistoffelees replied cheerfully, lifting Teresa up in his arms and straightening her pretty yellow dress. "Okay, Andy, give it your best shot - me and the little Princess."

The camera flashed and there was a buzz and whirr. An undeveloped photograph emerged almost immediately and Andy - if that was his name - laid it aside on the nice doorman's desk. 

He cocked his head. "How about another couple, just in case? And one for you, M… er… Misto?"

"Sounds good to me." Mistoffelees replied.

Teresa couldn't help grinning broadly, not caring that her two top front teeth were missing. She was just happy to be meeting Mister Mistoffelees and having a picture taken with him.

Several minutes later, they finished the pictures and they had come out great. The black cat picked up a pen and quickly signed two of them for her, handing them to the delighted girl.

"Something to remember me by, eh?" He winked impishly at her, as she heard the door behind her opening.

"Thank you!" She hugged him one more time. "I love you, Mister Mistoffelees."

Her mother took her hand and - hugging her new photographs protectively - the little girl allowed herself to be lead past the gawping blond man in the thick coat and scarf who was standing at the door.

She never saw Mistoffelees stand up and mark one in the air, before smirking and bouncing back around the corner, out of sight of the man who had just returned from his lunch break.

***

"Help!"

Miranda looked around when something large and weighty slammed into the door of her dressing room. "Who is it?"

"Me!"

"That doesn't help much."

"I'm twapped! It's got me!"

Miranda chuckled. "Come on in, Menke." She unfurled from her seat and stretched as the door opened, revealing the still-sweaty-lycra clad dancer, his fingers groping through his shoulder fluff. What can I help you with?"

"It's got me!" He replied frantically, tugging at his shoulders. "It's drying…fusing to my skin! I can't get out of it!"

"And you've been doing this for how long now?"

"Er…" He paused, scratching his ear. "Running around with demon lycra trying to kill me or the show?"

"The show, dear boy." Approaching him, she moved behind him and reached up to the fasteners. "You forgot that this unitard has the little zipper instead of the poppers, didn't you?"

"Um…"

"That would be a no comment cos I would feel stupid, I assume." She murmured, unfastening the zip and peeling it down from his shoulders. "And I suppose that also means you don't know that a certain friend of yours is lurking about, if you're still in your costume and it's intact and unmolested…"

"Whoa! You mean Annie is about?" Menke threw his hands up, which only succeeded in tangling his arms in the flapping material of his sleeves that he had been in the process of slipping his arms out of. "Crap!"

"Wait…" Miranda pulled his hands loose. "And, yes. Annie's about."

"Man, if I knew that, I could have just had her tear it off with her teeth…"

"And she does that on a regular basis, does she?"

Menke snickered. "In her dreams."

"You're so modest, aren't you?" She patted his shoulder, clearly amused, before moving back to her cushioned seat in the corner. "Imagining charming and sweet young ladies like Annie are fantasizing about you."

"And you're deluded."

"How so?"

"Imagining Annie Lawson's a charming and sweet young lady!" He laughed merrily, before pecking her on the cheek and bounding out of the room with a backward shout of. "Thanks, Mira!"

"Mad…" Miranda curled back on her seat sleepily, pulling her long, slim legs up underneath her body and pillowing her head on her folded arms on the neighbouring chair. "Absolutely, barking mad." 

***

"So you're taking advantage of us?" Jordan murmured lazily. 

He was lying on his back, his arms stretched over his head, his head pillowed in his wife's lap. She had her legs crossed beneath her and her eyes were closed, her fingers running absently over Jordan's scalp.

Blue had joined them and was apparently dozing on the couch, Jordan looking after her while Andy had disappeared somewhere. She was resting between his thighs, using his belly as a pillow.

Annie looked up from the sketch she was doing. "What did you say?"

Jordan slitted one eye open. "You're taking advantage of us, Annie." He replied, his quiet voice a serious monotone. "We should have you thrown out for being such a nightmare to all the poor kitties."

"Don't be mean to the poor woman, Jor. She's dating Phil and that's punishment enough for anyone." Rachel murmured, her other hand running down his chest beneath his loose vest. A small smile crept onto his lips, but he didn't move.

"Did they just insult me?" Phil's voice demanded. 

He had disappeared from the social area almost ten minutes before and Annie turned around with a grin, only to freeze, staring at the figure in the doorway. The tall, lean, striped figure.

"Phil?"

Doing a little twirl, he bowed. "One in the same."

"You…you're Munk…"

"I am?" Phil looked down at himself. "Bugger! I was trying for Demeter."

"Sod off, you git. Get out of my costume!" Andy's voice cried out indignantly, a moment before a second silver tabby rudely pushed past Phil and into the common area, spreading his warmered hands. "Now, this is what you wanted to see, hmm? The genuine article?"

"Uh..."

"Isn't she just so eloquent?" Jordan drawled dryly.

Phil stepped alongside Andy, grinning. Andy slung a friendly arm around the slightly shorter Munkustrap's shoulders, both of them flashing wide, wicked grins in Annie's direction, as she continued to silently open and close her mouth.

"Does she always react like this when she sees stripes?"

"Why do you think I keep trying to nick a costume?" Phil inquired with an impish smirk. "I can't think of any other way to stop her asking me to do the laundry."

"Now, if only my little lady would start doing that."

Blue eyes opened and gazed up at him drowsily. "You even think about it and I won't like you anymore." She yawned, snuggling against Jordan's belly, his hand brushing over her mussed, gel-free hair. "So there." She added as an afterthought, before settling back to sleep.

Rachel smiled, reaching over her husband's chest and adding a quick caress to the girl's head, before nodding to Annie. "I'm impressed, though, boys. You managed to silence her. I think this is possibly the first time ever..."

"Scuse me...passing through..." Another strangely-familiarly-coloured figure pushed past them, carrying a soggy lump of dark fabric in his hands. He paused and looked at the two men he had just passed. "Looks like a convention of the silver and black variety." Menke remarked, as if oblivious to his own fresh unitard as he continued across the room, then stopped. "Annie! Imagine seeing you here! I had NO idea you were going to be here." 

"Eep..."

"No idea at all." He smirked back at the two other Munkustraps as the brunette's arm supplies went flying and he promptly had to drop his wet bundle to receive an armful of laughing, squealing artist. "So I guess this means you're pleased to see me?"

"You...you're Munk as well!" She held him at arm's length, staring at him, then hugged him again. "You!"

"But what about me?!" Phil whined, tugging at his unitard. "I'm Munkustrap."

"No! I'm Munkustrap!" Andy yelled indignantly.

"No!" Jordan's voice drowned out Menke's. "I'm Munkustrap and so's my wife."

Rachel gave her husband a look of mock-irritation. "What did I tell you about quoting Monty Python, dear?" She swatted his chest. "We're meant to be the weird serious ones. How can we be weird and serious if you can quote Monty Python?"

Jordan blinked helplessly. "Because I'm cute?"

"Cute? With a tattooed noggin?" Menke snickered. "Jor, the only way any male can be attractive to a member of the opposite sex is by possessing a thick and luxurious mane to prove he is virile and healthy and such like."

"Menke, you've been reading too many of Demi's books from work again." Annie chastised, her voice oddly tight, from her position of being hugged against Menke's chest. "That's only referring to cats. Not to humans."

"I know." He flashed a smile at her, then seemed to notice something. "Annie, wanna sit somewhere?" She nodded against his shoulder and Menke glanced back at Phil, who hurried over, Andy left looking bewildered. "Andy, care to bring your stripy butt over to join us?"

"Do I get to know why?"

"In a little while, maybe." Phil replied, he and Menke bustling Annie over to a more private corner, the pair of them squishing her onto a couch and cuddling on either side of her. Andy was forced to take the space at her feet, kneeling between her knees and squeezing one of her hands.

"You guys be okay?"

Menke looked back over at Jordan and Rachel. "You guys just look after the ickle person for us." He suggested softly, drawing Annie securely against his shoulder, his arm around her. "We'll be back to annoy you in a little while."

***

"She was so cute!"

"You did mention that, hon." 

Malcolm grinned up at his lover, his white make-up just removed. "But she was so happy to see me! I've never seen a kid's face up light up like that and the picture! Did I show you the picture she did for me?"

Raymond smiled indulgently as the painting was waved in front of his face for the seventh time since Malcolm had returned from the stage door area. It was quickly added to the small collection of pictures that decorated the little Goth's mirror, beside a photograph of him with the little artist.

"Isn't she just adorable?"

"D'you always like the babes of darker, better-looking persuasion, hon?" Raymond murmured huskily, bending until his lips brushed against Malcolm's ear. "I'm startin' to see a pattern in your taste..." Malcolm simply smiled, lifting his face to Raymond's to claim a kiss.

"You stole my costume!"

Whatever romantic that might have happened in the following few moments was immediately cancelled, the red- and black-haired dancer standing up and rounding his seat, one of Raymond's hands still on his shoulder as a calming force.

"It was actually my own costume, Jo." Malcolm said. He sounded surprisingly calm, but Raymond wasn't taking any chances, his hand tightening on his lover's shoulder. "In case you had forgotten, I was here first."

"Well, you took my part then! I'm Mistoffelees here."

Malcolm shrugged, still calm. Raymond was both impressed and puzzled. "In case I was mistaken, I didn't take your role. We weren't onstage and you weren't anywhere near the stage door area, when that little girl asked to see you."

"You had no right!"

"No right to make a little child happy?" Laughter bubbled up from the Goth. "Man, you really are full of yourself, aren't you? In case you hadn't noticed, I'm Mistoffelees when you're not there." He took a step towards Joseph. "And, as I seemed to recall, you weren't at stage door, which means that I was Mistoffelees there."

"You know she wanted to see me!"

"No," Malcolm's smile was broad and sickeningly sweet. "She wanted to see Mister Mistoffelees and that was exactly what she got to see. A Mistoffelees who didn't run out of the front door to avoid a cute little girl and her beautiful picture."

Joseph scowled at him. "She wanted to see me. I'm the famous Mistoffelees."

"Jo, quit while you're ahead, buddy." Raymond murmured. "She wanted to see the Mistoffelees and she got to meet the best Misto in the world."

Malcolm flushed, still smiling sweetly. Joseph's expression darkened. "If he's the best Mistoffelees in the World," He demanded sourly. "Why wasn't he chosen to play Mistoffelees in the video?"

"Who would want to be in it?" Malcolm asked cheerfully. "I mean, yeah, it was a big deal, all international and stuff, but I really don't want to be remembered as a sparkly pussy for the rest of my life." Raymond snickered, while Malcolm continued. "If I'm going to have a role to make my own, I want it to be something new. There are too many famous Mistoffelees in the world. I want to be different."

"You're just saying that cos you're jealous."

"Of you? Puh-lease!" Malcolm shook his head. "Nah, mate. I'm happy with what I've got. I don't need my name on a video to feel worth something. I can dance, I can sing, I can do acrobatics. I have a wonderful boyfriend and great friends. Why would I need my name on a video with possibly the worst continuity and editing in history to make me feel good?"

Joseph threw his hands up. "I don't get you guys!" He snapped, turning and stomping out of the dressing room. 

As the footsteps faded down the hall, Malcolm leaned back against his lover's chest. "Something tells me," He remarked, reaching behind his back to the tied waistband of the bigger dancer's loose trousers. "That all that boy needs is a really good shag."

As Malcolm reached up to claim a kiss, Raymond inquired. "Are you going to give him one?"

Nuzzling the big dancer's jaw, the lean dancer chuckled. "Ray, as you so kindly pointed out, I go for the dark and sweet variety." Blue eyes met brown. "And I could really do with some of the dark, sweet variety right now."

"I'm guessin' you ain't talkin' about chocolate here."

"Damn straight." Malcolm murmured into a kiss. "I'm talking coffee."

"Little ass."

"Bigger ass."

Not much was said after that.

***

"So," Tommy looked around the social area. "Is everyone sorted out?" 

After finding out what had been upsetting Blue, she had been sent out by them – and everyone else, when word spread of her task – to get a Chinese takeaway from somewhere and hadn't realised just how far she had to walk to get there. 

Now, laden down with carrier bags filled with succulent-smelling, tinfoil cased food, she had managed to make the single, somewhat unreliable lift work for the first time in days and had managed to avoid the stairs.

No one would have believed that swearing profusely at the elevator was the secret of her success.

"It depends what you mean by sorted out." Raymond replied. He was sitting with Rachel, Jordan, Malcolm, Blue and Andy. Half of the group seemed to be fast asleep and using their respective partners as a pillow.

"Well, Blue is out of her dressing room." Tommy nodded to the end of the couch, where Andy - in his Munkustrap costume - was precariously balanced on the arm with his dainty fiancée in his lap, her arms over his shoulders, her head resting on his right shoulder. "That's progress."

"Yeah, but..." The big American nodded towards the other end of the lounge.

"Oh...Kay..." Tommy stared at the two tabby figures flanking Annie Lawson, who seemed to be cuddled against the larger of the two figures, who definitely wasn't the Phil-shaped one of the tabbies. "Do I even want to know?"

"Apparently, she needed a break."

"With two Munkustraps?"

"Seems so." Raymond seemed more interested in peering at the large, steaming and fragrant bags of Chinese food that she was carrying than in informing her of what had occurred since she had departed. "Um...did you manage to get my Sweet and Sour pork?"

"Would I have come back if I hadn't?"

"You did last time."

Tommy stuck her tongue out him. "Don't be picky." She dropped the bags on the table with enough force for the sound to catch the attention of those around them. "Menke, do you and your buddies wanna come for something to nibble?"

"Annie?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?" Phil asked, his voice soft and concerned.

The artist nodded, getting to her feet along with Menke. "I'm fine, Phil."

"Its only fair that we trade property since I bought dinner." Tommy stated, shrugging out of her long coat and tossing it over the sleeping Malcolm, who immediately yelled in fright. "I get to snuggle with the artist and hear her deep, dark secret and you boys get food."

"It's no big deal, Tommy." Tommy, however, noticed that Annie kept a firm grip on Menke's left hand, his right arm loosely around her waist, his fingers gently stroking her side. "Plus, I do prefer to snuggle with Menke and Phil."

Tommy smiled. "One day, my dear," She purred, motioning for them to sit down, preferably avoiding the grumbling Malcolm. "I will bring you over to the dark side and you'll find out just who is the better snuggle partner."

"Until that day, Tommy, I'll stick with these two."

"So young...so naive..." Tommy sighed, starting to dish out the food, as the rest of the group gathered for the meal.

***

"What were you having a shower for now?"

Tony paused halfway across the common area, his towel wrapped around his waist, his bristly ginger stubble dotted with beads of water. "Well, I went out for a walk and as I be buggered, God decided it was time to do a piddle on my head."

"Translation?" Andy suggested around a mouthful of Chow Mein.

"It were raining on me 'ead." Tony leaned over the back of Annie's chair to snag a water chestnut from her plate. Crunching it, he added. "It was just a bit of extra bad luck when I crossed Trafalgar Square and a load of pigeons decided that I needed to be fertilised."

"Now, Tony, what did we say about having a target shaved into your scalp?" Rachel laughed reprovingly.

Tony grinned. "I was hoping it would work for pulling, but I guess not." His hand shot down in front of Annie again to steal another water chestnut, but before he could grab it, her hand wrapped around his wrist. "Hey!"

"Look at you!" She exclaimed, turning his arm in her grip. "All these freckles!"

"Yeah. I have a lotta freckles! So? Lemme have food!"

"You can have some food when I'm finished looking." Annie put her plate down on the crowded table and twisted to look up at him, her jaw dropping as she took in the rest of his body.

While he wasn't one of the biggest, most muscular men in the cast, Tony was lean and wiry, perfect for playing both Admetus and Macavity. He had a ginger buzz-cut and eyes that were a peculiar shade of turquoise-blue.

And freckles.

There wasn't a square inch of his body that wasn't splattered with the things!

"Do you just have those things everywhere?" She asked, shaking her head.

"Nope." He was still peering hopefully down at her unfinished meal. "There's only four parts of me body that don't have any." He raised his hands and bared pink palms to her. "These and my feet."

Phil nudged his girlfriend. "Ask." He suggested, winking. "You know you want to."

"Ask him what?" Blue inquired, looking momentarily puzzled, while trying to catch a long noodle from her fork in her mouth.

"I think I have a vague idea." Tommy chuckled.

"Is it about something that begins with 'P' and can be used to do something that rhymes with duck?" Malcolm asked, snatching a prawn cracked that Raymond was trying to stick to his tongue.

Tony pretended to look shocked. "You want to know about…" He looked around furtively, then said in an exaggerated stage whisper. "My willy?"

"Willy?"

"Anyone want to translate for the brunette?" Tony looked around at the group. "How can anyone be an artist and not know what a willy is?"

"Knob." Malcolm said around his rice.

Raymond raised a hand. "Family jewels."

"Bits and pieces." Jordan nodded.

"Pee-pee pipe." Menke said wisely. Several brows were raised. "What? I was a very slow child."

"So slow that he hasn't even reached the mental age of a toddler yet, let alone a teenager." Phil yelled indignantly when Menke swatted him across the head. "What? Just cos you don't know to call it a dingly-dangly?"

"Do you get the vague idea, Annie?" Rachel asked hopefully. Annie nodded. "Oh, good! The sooner we get off this discussion topic, the better…so, are you going to ask what we all know you want to ask…"

"I can't do that!"

"Why? We all know you wanna."

Annie blushed. "Cos its embarrassing!"

"I'll ask then." Malcolm said cheerfully. "Tony, have you got those things on your tackle and all?"

"Is that all?" Tony looked down at Annie. "You should have just asked." 

With a flourish, he whipped his scruffy blue towel open, revealing the subject of the last two minutes of highly mature conversation.

Silence fell.

Andy swallowed his mouthful of noodles - hard. Malcolm's rice fell from his slack mouth. Raymond blinked, rubbed his eyes and blinked again. Jordan sat up, peered over, then lay back down, grinning. 

Menke and Phil – in the same instant – exchanged looks, then stared up at Tony. The closest eyes to both of them and the closest eyes the… item widened and blinked at a furious pace.

"It…it looks like a big freaking dangly carrot…"

"Astute observation, Andy." Tommy drawled. "Its not like you haven't seen one of them before."

"I…uh…I've seen one." Andy half-stood when Tony turned to walk away. "But never in that…er.."

"Large size?" Tony offered with a grin.

"Colour!" Andy exclaimed vehemently. "I see a bigger one than that every morning when I get dressed."

"Yeah." Tommy supplied. "It's my dildo and it's hanging on the bathroom wall."

"Tommy!"

Tony just chuckled, tucking his towel back around his waist. "You know, it doesn't look that much like a carrot." He remarked over his shoulder as he wandered back towards his dressing room door. "That only happens when it's hard."

Several snorts sprayed Chinese food all over the floor and table and Tony's laugh rang back to them as he vanished.

***

"You feeling better now?"

"Uh huh."

Menke ran a hand over Annie's head. "You're lucky I'm not on tonight." He said with a smile. "You get to keep the best looking Munkustrap while that prat of yours has to go and play at being Tugger."

"Thanks for putting up with me, Menke."

He chuckled, nuzzling her short hair. "Y'know its not a problem, Annie-person." He murmured. "After all, I am the only twit in this place who knows what the deal is with you needing your silver comfort blanket."

"Apart from Phil."

"Of course." He let her snuggle comfortably against his shoulder and continued to stroke her hair. "Just so you know, though," He added. "You don't get to keep me as your permanent teddy bear."

"Got a good reason?"

"An eight-months pregnant wife?"

"That would work, I suppose." Annie replied reluctantly, looking up at the vivid green eyes, a trace of envy visible there. "That's going to be one lucky kid, to have a dad like you."

"Well, you are a bit old for me to adopt." He smiled. She tried to return it, but it was strained and her eyes fell. "If I could, you know, I probably would, although I think a psychiatrist would have a field day with our father-daughter roles and slightly unhinged psyches, what with you fancying the tail off me."

"You're so modest." She rubbed her head under his chin, sighing. "Why couldn't my dad have been more like you?" She shook her head. "All I remember is mum crying all the time and them yelling…then he was gone…"

"I know, sweetheart." He hugged her warmly. "He didn't deserve to have a daughter like you…kids like your family. No guy should ever walk out on his family like that, no matter what he claims his excuse is."

"You better not abandon yours!" She said it in what was meant to be a teasing tone, but he could see the shadows in her eyes and nodded. 

"I couldn't do that to anyone, Annie." He replied softly. "I'm too much of a softy to be able to walk away from anyone. I'm the guy who finds puppies in the gutter and tries to convince Demi we need to look after them."

"Always looking after helpless, pathetic critters?"

He grinned impishly. "Well look what's hugging me now."

"Menke!"

"What?" he laughed as she poked him, swatting at her hands to fend her off. "I said I had a weakness for pathetic things, but I never said that I was particularly polite and nice to them!"

"I bet you're nice to the puppies."

"Yep!"

"Then why not be nice to me?"

The dancer shrugged. "Cos that would be no fun?" He offered.

"You're a pig."

"Actually," He motioned to his costume and wig. "I'm a cat." He pounced on her, pinning her on the couch and started nuzzling her, the artist shrieking and squealing, trying to shove him off unsuccessfully. "Purr, baby!"

"Menke! Get off!"

"Me no thinkie so!" He grinned wickedly. "Can I ask you something, Annie? Are you ticklish at all…?"

"No!"

"No, hmm?" The wicked gleam in his eyes made her start to squirm even more. "I think I should check to see if that's correct."

"MENKE!"


	19. The Cast Part 19 Plotted & Knotted

"Nothing like the smell of pussies in the afternoon."

Looking around from their mirrors, the three men who shared a dressing room with Andy could not help feeling a little suspicious at the grin on Andy's face, as he leaned against the doorframe.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Jordan inquired. "You look like the cat who got the cream and the canary, all in one."

"Well…" Swinging into the room, his grin widening, Andy dropped into his seat. "I have just been making some arrangements, y'see…" Loosening his hair around his shoulders, he regarded his reflection. "Are all of you free on Thursday, at about ten o'clock in the morning?"

"Morning?" Malcolm quipped. "What's one of those?"

"Funny, Mal. Real funny." Andy turned to face the trio. "I have a little favour to ask you guys and I have to make sure that Blue doesn't hear about it, okay?" A couple of glances were exchanged and the three shrugged. "I need you to spread some details around the rest of the cast, with dates and times and whatnot. RSVP will be good, but isn't strictly necessary."

"Do we wanna know?" Raymond asked, pausing with half his black nose painted on.

"Well, here's the thing…I've arranged a little surprise for my fiancée and I need as many of her friends to be there as possible and you boys are my key to getting the word round the people that Tommy doesn't reach."

"And Blue isn't meant to know?"

Andy shrugged. "I think we can pull it off."

"I think you're crazy." Malcolm stated flatly. "We have what? Two days to get word round everyone and you know how bad our kitties are at keeping any kinds of secrets from anyone."

"You managed when I planned our engagement." Andy reminded him. Malcolm started to say something, then shook his head with a sigh. "Would that be a yes, you're going to spread the word?"

"I suppose we might." Malcolm released a heavy sigh. "Anyone else you want us to contact apart from the usual nutters?"

"Well, if I remember right, Jor, you're a friend of Antoine and his wife?"

"I would say that I'm…associated with them." He pulled a face, which was belied by the ten years of friendship that the cast knew he had had with Antoine. "Friend is too strong a word for that bleach-haired nut."

"Nice to see you're so fond of your close friends." Andy snickered. "That's one person we need to contact."

"And who else?"

"Do any of you know what Jonny is up to now?" Withdrawing a notebook from his pocket, Andy studied a list of names. "I would steal his number from Blue's mobile, but I think she might suspect something if I started pinching her phone and Tommy lost his number, after he moved."

Malcolm nodded. "I think that I heard something about him going back to teaching at a dance school in Kent. I could be wrong, but that's what he was hoping to do after he got outta here. You could ask Tony..."

"Okay. That's two main groups down…John?"

"You want John to come to this?"

"Well, Blue does like the old fart, especially after the stunt he pulled with Tommy."

Raymond chuckled. "Gus and Demeter were best friends for a while after that, remember, hon?" Malcolm nodded, smirking. "I think I could get to him. He goes to the same club as one of my roomies and they're pretty close friends."

"Friends?" Malcolm raised a brow. "I wouldn't exactly call what they did the other night 'friendly' by any means."

"Do I want to hear this?" Andy pressed his eyes shut, as if bracing himself.

"Lets just say…er…well, John and Mark - his boyfriend - ended up coming back to Ray's place with Patrick, the roomie." Malcolm answered for his grinning lover. "I thought Ray and I were bad, but the things they did on the couch…together…"

"Menage a trois?" Andy winced as he asked it.

"You…could say that. Patrick is one of the most experimental guys you'll meet… and when I say experimental, ANYTHING goes."

"He's right about that, hon." Raymond added dryly. "My first night in the country and I wake up with him climbin' into my bed beside me and askin' me if I wanted to try it with him in bondage…not the kinda thing you need to wake up to when you got jet lag." 

"You didn't turn him down though, did ya?" Malcolm reached up to cuff Raymond's ear and the black dancer grinned broadly.

"Hell no!"

"And this guy got it on with John and his King Kong boyfriend? Without any broken bones anywhere?" Andy gawped at the two in shock. "And on the couch?"

"Yeah, when we were watching TV with everyone else that Ray lives with. No shame, those guys." The Goth shook his head. "He'd never been part of a threesome of three guys before and they thought it would be…fun." He pulled a face. "Messy and noisy is what I'd call it."

"Didn't stop you gettin' hot and bothered." Raymond purred, receiving another light cuff across the head, which only made him grin more.

"All right, all right you too!" Clapping his hands tightly over his ears, Andy looked nauseated. "I'm really not needing to hear this right now! Its giving me scary and very distracting visuals."

Malcolm and Raymond just grinned at him.

***

"Is there something going on that I need to know about?"

Fluffing her wig, Tommy cast a sidelong glance at her petite companion. "Whatcha talkin' about, kid?"

"I think I'm getting paranoid in my young age." Blue replied, studying something in the mirror that wasn't meant to be there. Spinning around, she managed to catch a glimpse of a reddish wig jerking back from the door. "Why is Tony spying on us?"

"Tony, game's up, mate." Tommy called over her shoulder.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." A voice floated back to them.

"Sure, Tony. Get in here and fess up." Pivoting, Tommy leaned lazily against the make-up desk as the young man sheepishly edged into the room, twisting his tail in his hands. "So, what's up?"

"I-I-I was wondering..." Clearing his throat, Tony shuffled his feet. "Um...I wanted to catch up with Jonny and I don't have his number." He gave Blue a hopeful look. "I was wondering if you had it."

"And there's the biggest duh in the world." Blue grinned. "I'll go get my phone. I left it in my rucksack, on the couch."

She darted off and Tommy straightened up, her arms folded across her chest. "Tony, my dear, dear boy, you really are the worst liar the World has ever had the misfortune of seeing."

"It's not my fault! I feel bad for lying to her!"

"Lemme guess. Andy sent you to reconnoitre and get the number from her, so it wouldn't look suspicious when he nicked her mobile?" Tony nodded. "It would have been less obvious if you hadn't spent your time skulking out there."

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but Blue skipped back into the dressing room, phone in hand. 

"Yeah." She looked up at the Admetus-clad dancer. "Why were you skulking about out there?"

Behind the tiny woman, Tommy's smirked at the uncomfortable Tony, gesturing for him to continue with his so-far wordless explanation. If looks could have hurt very badly, Tommy would have been in pain.

Lots of pain.

Scowling, Tony wracked his brains for an answer that wouldn't blatantly appear to be a lie. "I...uh...I wanted to make sure you weren't all naked and stuff, cos I didn't wanna...you know...embarrass you."

"After you flash your bits at us when we're eating, you expect us to be embarrassed by an exhibitionist nutcase peeking in at us when we're half-naked?" Tommy waved him off. "Blue, give the boy his number, so he can take his warped mind out of our hallowed dressing room."

"And to think," Blue snickered, as she scribbled the number down on a scrap of paper. "She actually likes you."

"I know." Tony mumbled, backing towards the door, as Tommy turned cool eyes to him. "That's the part that scares me." Snatching the paper from Blue's child-like hand, he fled.

"That was mean."

Tommy tried to look shocked. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You were scaring him on purpose." A small finger wagged at her and Tommy tried not to chuckle. "You did the stare-y thing and you know that freaks them all out, cos they're all a buncha wusses."

"What can I say?" The taller dancer smirked. "They're male. Being a wuss comes with the territory."

"And that's not at all sexist." Blue returned to her mirror to finish her make-up.

Biting on her forefinger nail, her ebony eyes wide, Tommy batted her false eyelashes at her roommate. "I have no idea what that wude word means, Blue." She simpered. "I'm so innocent!" 

"And I'm the Pope." Blue snickered.

"Hottest pope I've seen in a while." The innocent act had melted away like dew in the morning sun and Tommy leered down at her, only to get smacked on the nose with a make-up brush. "Hey!"

"Do I have to remind you that I'm engaged?"

"Do I have to remind you that I don't care?" Tommy grinned widely.

Blue shook her head, laughing. "I walked into that one, didn't I?" She noted dryly.

"You most assuredly did." Tommy wrapped her arms around the blue-haired dancer and hugged her tightly. "And you loved it too." She received a grin and dropped a kiss on Blue's forehead. "You know I love you, right, kid?"

"What brought this on?"

"Nothing in particular." Smiling as Blue stroked her bare arms, Tommy nuzzled her roommate's head. "Just hadn't said it for a while."

"Love you too, Tom." There was a moment's pause, then she added hastily. "But I'm still not joining in a threesome."

"Aw, nuts!"

"Or lack thereof." Blue finished with a giggle.

"Why, you dirty-minded little madame!"

Looking up at her roommate, Blue grinned widely. "I learned from the best."

***

"And she doesn't suspect anything?"

"Not a thing."

Jonny shook his head in silent amazement. "She's dumber than I thought possible, if she doesn't twig." He was lying on the double bed he shared with Ramon, or Moni, depending on his lover's mood. 

"Well, she has been kinda distracted." Andy was the first to admit it. "What with the trial and seeing lawyers and everything, its been a bit stressful for her, so I think she's trusting us to get on with everything."

"Therein lies the stupidity." Rolling onto his back, Jonny stretched his legs up the wall beside the bed, studying his toes from his vantage point. "When are you going to tell her?"

"When she's in the frock and halfway there."

This time, Jonny did laugh. "Andy, you really are one for surprises, aren't you?"

"Well, I do have to outdo the engagement, don't I?"

"That is a big thing to beat...oh, hi sweetie." Pausing, he accepted a brief peck on the lips from Ramon, who then strolled off to his walk-in-wardrobe. Jonny could almost hear Andy paling on the other end of the phone. "You've gone very quiet."

"Is she gone?"

"No, _he_ is still here and _she_ should be out of the closet in a minute."

"Uh..."

"Ramon was working. He has to wear something semi-professional for the college at least." Jonny chuckled as Ramon appeared out of the wardrobe, clearly listening in on the conversation. His shirt was half-unfastened, his trouser belt loosened. "He doesn't think his students would take him seriously in a pink baby-tee."

Strolling over to join his boyfriend on the wide bed, Ramon sprawled out on his stomach beside Jonny and purred down the phone. "Baby, I would be too hot for them to look at, let alone learn from."

"Oh crap!"

Suddenly very aware of who was on the other end of the line, Ramon's eyes lit up gleefully. "Andy! Honey! You didn't tell me you were gonna call! Decided you want to have me as your bit on the side?"

"Uh..."

Jonny covered the mouthpiece with a hand and quickly explained to Ramon exactly why Andy had phoned them. Ramon was off the bed in a heartbeat and back into the wardrobe, clothes flying out of the open door.

"Is...who is this?"

"Just me, Andy." Jonny turned back onto his stomach to watch Ramon, his lips twitching up as the trousers his lover had been wearing hurtled out of the door and landed on the chair on the other side of the room. "I told her what you called for."

"So she's...definitely a she now?"

"I would say so." Jonny answered, grinning as Moni ran out of the wardrobe, clad in her red silk lingerie and made a beeline for the couch, where the freshly washed clothes sat. "No! I just spent the morning ironing them!"

Moni shot a coy look at him, them yanked a flimsy black number out of the bottom of the pile, without so much as unbalancing the heap. Jonny watched through half-closed eyes, then sighed. 

"She's just looking out her best clothes..." He sat back up, shaking his head.

"Oh dear Lord..." Andy mumbled. "Couldn't she just...y'know...come as Ramon?"

"Andy, you gave her an excuse to dress up more than usual." Jonny chastised. "I bet if you'd given her more notice, she would have dragged me on a shopping trip for something special."

"Jonny!" Running directly across the bed from the living room and reaching into the wardrobe to grab a red outfit, Moni straightened up, still standing over Jonny on the bed, and held up a strappy black dress and a scarlet sheath. "Which one?"

"You'd look good in either, baby." Jonny heard Andy making sounds of vomiting down the line, but ignored it as his lover dropped into his lap, sliding her arms around his neck. "No, no and once again, no!"

"But I need something new..." Moni pouted, dark hair tumbling around her face. "If its neon green themed, I'm gonna look stupid."

"Tell her it's not neon green themed and a tuxedo is ideal."

"Andy, shut it. Moni, baby, we just spent a fortune on those new shoes for you last week." Moni's pout intensified and Jonny chuckled, gently kissing her. "And you can't choose clothes until I check something with Tommy."

"What? I'm suddenly not good enough?"

"Andy, Tommy is arranging the women's side of things, am I right?" Jonny ran a hand through Moni's tousled hair as she nuzzled his throat, clearly trying to get his attention. when she started at the throat, that meant she would soon try...harder.

"Uh, yes, which is why I'm phoning you and your _male_ boyfriend, because I'm doing the _male_ side of things." Andy groaned. "Don't tell me you're gonna ask if she can be one of them..."

"Would I dare?" Jonny laughed. "Look, Andy, mate, I need to go."

"Don't even think about telling me why."

"Wouldn't dream of it. See ya Thursday." Putting the phone down, Jonny turned his attention to Moni, who was grinning impishly at him. "Moni, that could have been an important phone call."

"Yuh-huh." Her hands slid up his chest. "Which would have made it all the more fun to distract you."

"You're terrible."

"Yep!"

"And wearing few clothes..."

Moni looked down, then grinned a little wider. "Yep!" 

"Am I in trouble?"

"Only the best kind, baby." She cooed, before claiming his lips.

***

It was close to one o'clock in the morning in London.

However, on the East coast of North America, it was evening, when a theatrical design technician finally ushered his youngest daughter off the computer that seemed to have become something akin to a Siamese twin for her.

"But daddy!"

"Stephanie, you've been on the bloody thing since you got home from school."

Ten-year-old Sophia grinned up at him. "You sound so English when you're pretending to be mad, dad."

"That's cos I am English, Soph, and its past your bedtime." Motioning towards her bedroom, he smiled as she grudgingly got to her feet and reached up to peck him on the cheek. "Night, sweetheart."

"Night, daddy!"

He watched her go towards her room, then took her seat at the computer. She was the youngest of his three daughters, from two marriages, neither of which had lasted very long, mainly because he seemed to have a knack of picking wives who wanted to cheat on him.

Sophia had been left with a friend when he was at work on that fateful day. George had arrived home to find his wife's closet empty, the woman he loved more than he should have gone, leaving only a note that she had found something better and that their daughter was waiting for him.

That was eight years previously.

Fortunately, his elder daughter - the oldest one - had been a great help in looking after her half-sister. For anyone who looked at them, no one could have said with certainty that they were related to each other.

Sophia was already tall for her age, with her mother's Hispanic looks, dark brown eyes and long, curly black hair. Stephanie, on the other hand, was of average height - like her father - with pale skin and an unruly mop of gingery-blonde hair.

His other daughter...

George frowned slightly at that memory.

He didn't know what she looked like.

Or where she was.

His middle child had been cut out of his life cruelly, when her mother had divorced him. He had moved overseas and had longed to take both his daughters with him, but his dragon of a wife had taken custody of the quiet, gentle one.

Passing on his address to his ex-wife's lawyer and writing to their old marital address had proved useless, when he tried to get in contact with the girl. Only once had he gotten a response, a biting, bitter letter, signed with his daughter's name, but written in his ex-wife's handwriting.

Something had told him that no matter what he tried, he wouldn't see his little girl again.

His wife, despite her dainty frame and angelic looks, was a formidable enemy and he had no doubts that she wanted to raise their compliant daughter to be just like her, a bombshell, willing and able to catch any man's eye.

He hoped that his second daughter had inherited enough of his common sense not to follow her mother's path.

Turning his attention back to the computer, he logged himself on, absently checking into his e-mail accounts, ready to be faced with the regular barrage of junkmail and suggestions on how to enhance his size.

"Hey dad!"

Glancing over his shoulder as the front door flew open, George smiled indulgently at Stephanie, his eldest daughter, who had just breezed into the house. She was probably the most like him in looks and nature, as well as talent. She was studying art at the local art college, where he occasionally subbed as a teacher. "Evening, Steph. Good day?"

Tossing her art-folder and shoulder bag onto the floor beside the shoe-wrack, she kicked off her boots. "Coulda been worse." She answered, wandering towards him, reaching up to loosen her hair from the messy ponytail it was in. "You?"

"Almost finished the set for the High School's play." He looked up at her as she laid her hands on his shoulders and peered down at the screen through her glasses, which were, as always, spattered with paint. "You've been painting?"

"God, you're observant!" 

"Language, Steph!"

She grinned down at him apologetically. "Yeah. We were working on a mural for the sports department at Brooks after we finished our coursework and when we were clearing up, it turned into a bit of a paint fight."

"Why am I not surprised?" Chuckling, he turned his eyes back to his inbox, a frown wrinkling his brow at one of the newest e-mails. "Hello...what's this?" Stephanie, her curiosity piqued, leaned forward to read it too. 

Reading the contents of the mail, the colour flooded from George's face, one of his shaking hands coming up to grasp at Stephanie's. She, too, was staring at the mail, a combination of emotions playing across her face.

"Dad, can I have something to..." Sophia stopped in the doorway of the study. "Dad?" She was startled to see tears coursing silently down her father's still face. Hurrying to him, she touched his arm. "Daddy?"

"Soph..." He turned to her, seeming to see her for the first time. Drawing her to him, he hugged her tightly. 

"Dad, what's wrong?"

Drawing back, he stared at her uncertainly, then he seemed to realise what she had asked and a smile broke on his face. "Nothings wrong, Soph." He chucked her chin, then looked up at Stephanie, who looked like she was on the verge of tears as well. "I think everything's about to be a bit more right."

"What are we gonna do, dad?" The older girl asked.

George smiled broadly. "I think," He answered. "We're going on holiday."

"But dad, I have to go to school!" Sophia started to protest, then frowned. "Wait! I didn't say that. Let's go on holiday!" She paused again, studying her father. "So, where are we going, dad?"

"Wait and see, Soph." He turned to look at the mail again. "Wait and see."

***

"How did you pull this off, then? Feel free to gloat. It'd be understandable." Tommy stared around the building with a whistle of awe. "You must have to book this place months in advance..."

Andy shot a grin at her. "Not unless one of your many semi-siblings works here."

"Siblings...?"

"Last count, at least eight. And here comes one of the unfortunates now." He nodded to a tall, lanky, grinning carrot-haired man hurrying down a flight of stairs towards them. "Afternoon, Nick."

"Hi." He cast a casual glance over Tommy. "Shoulda told me you'd be dropping around and I would have...well, I woulda got some strippers and things in and made this look like a whores palace just for your guest."

"Tommy, this is Nick, Nick, Tommy."

Nick's brow furrowed. "Tommy? I'm guessing this isn't your unlucky lady?"

"Fortunately, no, I'm not engaged to him." Tommy held out a hand, which Nick shook with enthusiasm, which waned the moment she added. "And my girlfriend is very grateful for it."

"Oh."

"That's what I said." Andy chuckled. 

Tommy cast a coy look at him. "Oh, Andy," She fanned herself and added in a breathy voice. "If I'd known you felt that way about me, I would have been cured and wanted the boys!"

"Shut up, you daft cow." He chuckled. "You're confusing my brother."

"I'm no brother of yours!" Nick put in indignantly.

"Oh yeah..." Andy scratched his head. "Your mum married my dad for about two years, after my mum got knocked up by your dad, then your mum left my dad and moved in with my uncle on my dad's side, before my two got back together again, then my dad eventually married your mum..."

Nick grinned at Tommy, who was looking more than a little lost. "And he said that I was confusing you..." Andy looked proud at the commendation. "The basic story is that both of our parents married each others', so we're step-brothers times two."

"And roommates." Andy added.

"And we were best friends before all that started up, unfortunately. We introduced our parents to each other by accident when we went to nursery together." Nick heaved a sigh. "And we have been stuck with each other ever since."

"Yeah." Heaving a heavier sigh, Andy shook his head mournfully. "It's hell."

"So I can see." Tommy said, her arms folded over her chest, an amused look on her face. "While this is all very touching, you still haven't told me how you're gonna pull this off for us, Nick."

"Andy didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Nick grinned. "I run the joint!" Tommy blinked at him, which only served to make him burst out laughing. "Yeah! Got my kinky collar and dress and all the accessories to go with it."

Tommy turned to Andy, expression serious. "Andy, we have to have a serious talk about your choice of friends."

"Is that a good thing?" Nick inquired, grinning.

Andy answered. "Undoubtedly."

***

"You don't mind missing dinner with my parents?" 

Jordan, still in bed, half-opened his eyes to regard his wife. "They're my in-laws and there are rules that say I should say something rude about them." He remarked, holding out his hand to Rachel, who joined him on the bed. "But honestly, as long as they don't mind taking a rain check, I'm fine with it."

"That's okay, then. We'll arrange some time next week." Cuddling against him, Rachel nestled her head against his shoulder. "Jor...If we arrange to have dinner with them..." Pulling back, she stared at her hands on the sheets. "Do you think we should tell them about...well, about me...this early?"

Jordan didn't even need to look down at his wife's face to know the expression of pain that was etched on her features. Lifting her chin, the morning sunlight that had lanced in though the window glittered on her tears.

"Rach..."

"But..."

"Sh," His voice lowered to a whisper, he touched his fingertips to her lips. "Rach, nothing's gonna go wrong this time." Lowering his hand to claim hers, he lifted her wrist to his lips and gently kissed the scars left after her last pregnancy. "I promise you." He could feel her shaking in his arms. "And I love you." 

A quiet sob engulfed her and Jordan gathered her against his chest, holding her close, her hot tears splashing on his tattooed skin. "It still hurts, Jor." She sobbed, his hands gently stroking through her hair and down her back.

"I know, Rach." He kissed her forehead. "But we're going to be fine and this little tyke is going to make our lives hell for the next eighteen years...and you're going to spoil him or her rotten."

Her voice was hoarse as she laughed. "Yeah...I'm so predictable." Pressing against her husband's chest, she fell silent as he continued to stroke her tangled hair gently, his voice whispering reassuring nothings to her.

After several minutes of silence, the door of the bedroom squeaked as it was opened, making Jordan look up. Three faces peered in at them and Jordan smiled, beckoning the trio of children in with a curling of his hand.

"Is mummy all right?" Mark, the five-year-old asked, crawling onto the bed to cuddle his mother.

"She's just remembering your little sister who went to Heaven, son." Jordan answered, letting the little boy clamber into his lap and hug his mother. He wrapped his arms around both of them, smiling to Joshua and Melissa, the nine- and seven-year-olds. "You two want to join in?"

Melissa nodded, scrambling up to sit beside her father. Joshua, although slightly more reserved than his sister, joined them as well, studying their mother. "What made mum think about Eloise, dad?" He asked carefully.

"Rach?" She nodded and he kissed her brow gently, before turning to the children. "Your mum is expecting another baby." He explained. "She was worried that the same thing would happen, but I've told her it won't. She's going to be fine."

"And we're going to have another sister?" Melissa asked.

"We don't know what we're going to have yet, Mel." Tousling his daughter's dark hair, so similar to Rachel's, he smiled. "But we're going to love it even if it's three-headed alien from Jupiter, right, kids?"

"You mean like Mark?" Joshua grinned.

"Mummy! He said I'm an alien!" Mark wailed, poking Rachel, who laughed weakly, rubbing the tip of her nose against his. "Am I an alien, mummy?"

"If you are, that means Josh is as well, cos he is your brother."

"Ha!" Mark waved a finger at Joshua, who stuck out his tongue.

Jordan exchanged smiles with Rachel, then turned to their two sons, who were swatting at each other. "You two, can you behave for a minute? We have something we need to ask you three about, so we know whether to get a babysitter."

"I'm not a baby!" Mark protested.

"We know, sweetheart, but we're going to a very grown up party..."

"Can Gramma and Grampa Pryce come here and watch us?" Melissa asked eagerly.

"Yeah! Grampa Pryce is cool! He said he'd let me go on his bike!"

Rachel looked up at Jordan, smiling. "Looks like we've got that sorted then." She noted, kissing him on the chin. "Yes, kids, Gramma and Grampa Pryce will come and look after you all while we're away...and you better behave."

"Don't you think you should ask my parents first?"

"Jor, this is your dad and we all know how much he adores his grandkids." The triad of children grinned broadly at their father, who reluctantly nodded in agreement. There was no way his father would turn them down.

"I suppose this means we're going to Andy's do for Blue?"

"That we are."

Jordan sighed. "But I don't have a thing to wear!"

***

"So what time would that be, then?" The phone pinned between her ear and her shoulder, Tommy made some notes on a sheet of paper. "Uh-huh...yeah...that's great! Uh-huh..." She looked up as the front door of the flat opened. "Right, thanks. Talk to you soon. Bye!"

"Who was that?" Blue asked, hanging her helmet and jacket on the two lowest pegs beside the door. Andy made frantic gestures behind his girlfriend's back and Tommy forced a grin down.

"Someone that I knew from college." Tommy replied vaguely, sliding off the stool she was sitting on and sweeping the sheet of paper off the counter in her hand. "Just been arranging to meet up tomorrow morning, since she's in town." 

"Anyone I know?"

"Doubt it, kiddo." 

Blue glanced up at Andy. "You gonna hang around?"

"Well, shorty," Sliding an arm around her shoulders, he tapped the tip of her nose with his finger. "You just drove across town on that Death Machine of yours to pick me up and I have no way to get back home, so it looks like I'm here until showtime."

"Wonderful." Tommy moaned miserably, tucking the freshly-folded piece of paper into her pocket, as she passed them on the way to the stairs to her room. "As if seeing you at work wasn't bad enough."

"And would it be a bad thing if I stayed tonight?" Andy was grinning at Tommy, his eyes twinkling. 

"Is this just to annoy Tommy?"

"How'd'ya guess?"

"I'm too smart." Blue reached up to nuzzle her fiance's chin, which involved him being pulled down to her level. "And that's a yes, by the way. Tommy won't mind, since she's going out tomorrow morning."

"Still doesn't mean I like you!" Tommy's voice rang down from her room.

***

Unable to sleep despite flying thousands of miles across the world, George still found himself pacing around the room at midnight. His pale blue eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but he couldn't sleep, the thoughts racing around in his mind keeping him awake.

He had booked a flight as soon as he could, booked into the first hotel he could find and made his daughters pack as little as possible, getting them to the airport and the first flight of a series to get him back to Britain.

They had traveled for almost fifteen hours.

Glancing at the twin beds opposite his double bed, a tired smile lifted his lips. Stephanie had fallen asleep, while doing some sketches in her art pad, her glasses half-on, half-off, the pencil still gripped in her fingers.

Sophia, meanwhile, had made herself at home instantly, claiming the softer of the two beds. In the matter of five minutes, she had changed into her pyjamas, flopped down, with her beanie bear, and immediately falling asleep, only waking to eat, then fall asleep again.

Walking over to his eldest daughter, he carefully removed her glasses, folding them and laying them in a prominent place on the bedside table so she would be able to find them without too much difficulty in the morning.

Easing her sketchpad and pencils out from under her arms, he glanced at the sketch, his free hand rubbing over his mouth as he realised just what she was drawing. Sometimes, the girl's memory astounded him.

Mumbling, Stephanie flopped over onto her other side, her mass of hair - which reached between her shoulder blades, but seemed so much...bigger - spreading around her head. Yawning in her sleep, her nose wrinkled and she curled up in a ball.

Placing her art supplies to one side, George lifted the blankets and sheets from the end of the bed and carefully covered her up, bending to press a kiss to her temple. "Sleep well, Stephie." He whispered. "Big day, tomorrow..."

He switched off the lamp beside her bed, leaving only the lamp on his bedside table on. His eyes drifted over both of his sleeping daughters again as he returned to his pacing and walked over to the window, looking out at London.

Was he doing the right thing? He had been wondering that from the moment the plane had taken off from John F. Kennedy Airport in New York. They had explained the scenario to Sophia, who was thrilled with the idea, but what if...

George sat down heavily on the end of his bed, questions filling his head.

Would she recognise him now, even after all these years that had passed? Would she be...happy to see him? Or would she hate him for leaving her and coming back without warning? What would she be like now? 

Lying back on top of the covers, he closed his eyes. "God," He prayed softly. "Please let her at least remember me a little..."

***

"What do you mean you haven't seen it, you silly cow? You were the last person in this flat to wear my black silk shirt!" Tommy's yelling woke both Blue and Andy up, the door of Blue's room slightly ajar.

"Whu?" Blinking, Blue looked around groggily.

Andy quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, whispering urgently in her ear. "Don't make a sound. If we both pretend we're dead, she won't come in here and start screaming at...uh...hi, Tommy... great morning, isn't it?"

Scowling down at them, Tommy looked furious. "My black silk shirt's vanished. One of you two must have it."

"Oh yeah. I _always_ wear a slutty black silk shirt." Andy drawled sarcastically. "It goes so well with my black mini-skirt. Mmm. I look so good, flashing my nipples."

"You, shut it. Blue. Where'd'you put it?"

"Nguh?"

Andy chuckled. "She isn't exactly awake yet." Dipping his head, he nipped her earlobe. 

"Andy!"

"And she's awake. Okay, Tom, you can ask now."

Throwing her hands up, Tommy huffed in exasperation. "Never mind. I'll find something else."

The bedroom door slammed and several minutes later, Tommy and Sylvie's bickering voices faded, leaving the couple lying silently in Blue's bed. Blue was staring at the wall opposite her, frowning in confusion.

"Andy..."

"Mmm?"

"She was _wearing_ her black silk shirt."

"I know, but I didn't want to be the one to point it out to her." Dropping a kiss on her shoulder, he leaned up on his elbow to look down at her. "Shorty, you know what we discussed when your summons came through?" He felt her stiffen and comfortingly held her close. "Not that part. The good part."

"The...the wedding part?"

"That's the one." She shifted in his embrace to look up at him. "Well, since we're both up this early and Tommy won't be stalking us, there's somewhere I've been wanting to show you." He could see the question in his fiancée's eyes. "A location I think you might like."

"Where?"

Bringing a hand up to stroke her cheek, he smiled. "Not far, but far enough for you to have to tie me onto your hell machine." He answered. "It's about an hour away and I don't think there would be anything happening, since its a weekday."

Glancing at the round blue clock on the wall, Blue whimpered. "I can't believe I'm up at eight o'clock in the morning...there's no part of this that is right." 

"Well, we are awake." He laughed, negotiating his way over her, only pausing to kiss her. "Do you want anything for breakfast?"

"Waitaminute! Breakfast?" Sitting up as he stood, she stared at him. "Breakfast...what is this evil thing of which you speak of?"

Andy gave her a look. "I've seen you eat cereal before."

"But not at the time officially called 'breakfast'!" She protested. 

"Willing to try it, before I let you take me off on that evil toy of yours?"

Clambering out of her bed, wearing one of his oversized T-shirts that she had...borrowed, she stretched her body, wincing slightly. "If you make me a bacon buttie with extra tomato sauce, I'll think about letting you drive."

"Whee! My day has come!" Andy bounded out of the bedroom.

Leaning out the door, Blue yelled after him. "I only said I'd think about it!"

***

"This is the place?"

Andy braked the bike outside the gate of the small Church. Pulling his helmet off and shaking his hair loose, he looked back at her. "Yep!" Swinging off the bike, he smiled at her. "What do you think? Would it do?"

Blue slid off to stand beside him, staring through the arch-shaped gate at the little building. It was clearly old, made of grey stone, with several stained glass windows visible in the walls. A small tower stood at the far end of the main building, ivy crawling up the walls.

In the clear, crisp November sunlight, it looked like it had been taken out of a painting.

"Its perfect." She whispered.

"Wanna have a look inside before you decide?" Nodding towards the dark, wooden sign beside the gate, he pointed out. "It says here that its open to everyone from nine in the morning until five in the evening."

Nodding, Blue looped her helmet onto her arm. "Will it be all right to leave the bike here?"

"We could put it just inside the gate, out of the way, if it'd make you feel better." She nodded and he sighed. "I shouldn't have suggested that, should I? We're in the middle of the countryside, so I doubt a motorbike-nicker would steal it."

"But it's blocking this middle-of-the-countryside-tiny-lane." Blue pointed out, laughing.

Still grumbling under his breath, Andy carefully steered the bike through the gates and into place against the stone wall, which stood around the church grounds, while Blue gave directions maintaining she was too small and dainty to do the heavy work.

Eventually with the bike levered into place, Andy staggered back out of the long, dew-drenched grass, panting, the bottoms of his trousers soaked. "Okay..." He paused to draw a deep breath. "I think we're ready."

Taking his hand, Blue looked around. "It's pretty, isn't it?" She remarked, looking around. "I mean, for a graveyard..."

"My my, aren't we morbid." He chuckled, directing her towards the door of the Church, which was apparently on the opposite end to the bell tower. However, when they reached the large, black doors, Blue stopped short. "What?"

"We can't go in! There's something going on in there!"

She was right. 

Inside, the hum of conversation could be heard, suggesting that at least a dozen people were inside the small country chapel.

"It's probably a tour group." He stated firmly. "We might as well have a look and see what's happening anyway." Keeping a firm grip on her hand, Andy pushed one of the doors open and led her inside.

It took her several minutes for her eyes to adjust, but the first thing she saw when she looked around was...

"TOMMY?"

"You finally got here, kid!" Grabbing Blue, Tommy shoved Andy in the other direction. "We didn't think you were gonna make it!" Before the tiny dancer could protest, she was dragged into a sideroom by her roommate. 

"Huh?"

"C'mon! Get undressed!"

"Hold on a minute!" Stepping back, Blue waved her hands. "Stop...what the hells going on?"

"Well, you're getting married." A voice supplied from the other side of the room. Blue blinked as Moni waved her fingers, grinning. She was wearing a pale blue sheath dress, which, Blue noticed, was identical to Tommy's current attire. "Hi, sweetie."

The tiny dancer blinked. "Uh?"

Tommy didn't seem to mind her roommate's slightly incoherent state. She busied herself with peeling off the biker jacket and T-shirt, before setting to work on Blue's boots and trousers. "If you don't do something, we're never gonna get your ready!"

"But Tommy..."

"Lift your foot."

Tapping the kneeling Tommy on the top of her head, Blue tried futilely to catch her friend's attention. "Tommy, what's happening here?"

"Other foot now."

"Tommy."

Finally, Tommy's almond eyes looked up at her and Blue was startled to see tears in the other woman's eyes. "You're getting married, little sister." She answered, a shaky smile appearing on her lips. "My little girl..."

"I know I'm getting married, but..." Suddenly a light seemed to go on in Blue's head. "Omigod! Now? I'm getting married now?" Tommy nodded, smiling a little more broadly. "But I don't have a dress!" One was pushed into her hands. "And...and guests!" She looked around frantically, as she stepped into the white dress provided. "We don't have any guests!"

"Waiting in the chapel." Moni reassured her.

"And Sylvie!"

"Already in there."

As her friends fastened her into her dress, Tommy adding a pair of stockings and hiking Blue's skirt up to add a garter belt, Blue tried to maintain her balance and sanity, as everything started to make sense. "There was no friend from college..."

"Duh!"

"And you and Andy set all this up?"

Moni turned Blue's face to her and started applying her make-up. "I'm amazed you didn't catch on quicker, sweetie. Pucker your lips for me." Blue obliged. "I mean, him and Tommy have been setting this up for what? Two days?"

"It only took you two days!?"

"Honey! Don't talk! You'll make me smudge!"

"Sorry."

Moni frowned. "That counts as talking." Blue immediately froze, trying not to yelp as Tommy continued to fiddle with her suspender belt, taking the chance to tickle the back of Blue's knees in order to irritate the perfectionist Moni further.

"Done!"

"Perfect!"

"Don't I get a say in this?"

Moni and Tommy turned to Blue in unison. "No."

Grabbing a brush, Tommy quickly swept it through Blue's gel-free hair, leaving the usually-spiky mass parted to the left in perfect, soft, electric-blue swathes. "Tiara." She held out a hand and a tiara was place in it, attached to a veil, which was immediately placed on her head. "Flowers!"

"You got me flowers?" Blue pulled a face. "I hate..." She trailed off as a bouquet of white lilies bound with silver ribbon was placed in her hands.

"Don't hold 'em too tight." Moni recommended. "They go limp."

"Like men." Tommy quipped, her eyes dancing.

Moni rolled her eyes. "You just couldn't keep your mind out of the gutter for one day, could you, Tom?"

"Why change the habit of a lifetime?" Adjusting Blue's veil, she turned her friend towards a mirror that Moni had kept covered until the bride was ready. "So, little sister, whaddya think? Did we do good?"

Blue stared at her reflection, tears swimming in her eyes. "Oh God..." She looked perfect. All right, in her fantasies, she had her spiky hair, but looking at herself now, she knew that her friends had picked everything perfectly for her. 

The dress was simple and demure, a strapless number, hugging her slight figure and cutting just above her knees with a narrow slit running up the right side to about mid-thigh. A few diamonds shone here and there on the bodice.

On her head, the 'tiara' that held her light, silky veil was simple, art-deco-styled silver one with a few diamond-like studs in it, similar to the dress, and the white veil reached just below her slender shoulders.

A loud sniff from Moni made her look round. "Oh, don't look at me! I'm getting bleary-eyed already!" Moni wailed, flapping her hands. "I'm going to look like a panda by the time we're through with you!"

"Oh!" Tommy seemed to shake herself out of a reverie, tearing her eyes away from Blue. "The shoes! We need the shoes!"

"The shoes!"

"Are you three almost ready?" The door opened, Sylvie peering in.

Moni threw her hands up. "Sylvie! We need the shoes!"

Chuckling, the blond pointed to a box right beside Tommy's feet. "They're right there, sweetie."

"What's the deal with the shoes?" Looking away from the mirror in front of her, Blue blinked back tears that were threatening to fall already.

"We thought that since we're making you dress in something you probably hate," Tommy kept talking, despite Blue's best attempt to interrupt. "And since you like wearing things like this more, we got you a special pair of shoes to wear with your wedding dress."

She opened the box to reveal a pair of enormous-soled Doc Marten boots. They were white with silver laces and diamante studs had been liberally dotted here and there. Tommy knelt down and held out a hand for one of Blue's feet.

"Let's get you ready for the ball, Princess."

Biting on her lower to prevent herself from crying, Blue held out one foot, then the other, watching Tommy lace up the wedding boots. They looked ridiculous when compared to the dress, but Blue couldn't have cared less.

Throwing her arms around Tommy, she heard her roommate muffle a sniff as she hugged her.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"And thank God I used waterproof mascara." Moni piped up.

"That too." Tommy laughed, hastily wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Okay, lets check before we go out there." Taking Blue by the shoulders, ebony eyes met blue. "Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?" 

"One hundred percent." Blue nodded. "Never been more sure of anything."

Tommy smiled proudly. "My little girl…all grown up…"

"I'll always be your little girl, Tom, and you know it." Blue grinned slightly. "And now, you're going to be Andy's surrogate mother-in-law…"

"In that case," Tommy tapped her on the nose. "You've definitely got something old - me." They both laughed. "Something new - the boots. Something borrowed - my suspender clips and I'll be wanting them back. Something blue - well, gee, it's attached to your head..." Looking around, Tommy searched out a bag. "And this..." She pulled out a box and placed it in Blue's shaking palm. "A ring."

"I think that's everything." Blue nodded, suddenly feeling like the butterfly population of a small country had moved into her stomach.

Moni and Tommy exchanged looks.

"Not quite everything." Tommy said, as Moni nodded and slipped out the door. "Now, I want you to promise first that you won't kill me for doing this..."

"What could possibly make me want to kill you?" Blue half-laughed, half-cried.

"Just...don't say I didn't warn you." She glanced at the door. "You wait here..."

Tommy had barely departed from the room when the door opened again, allowing a figure to enter, looking as nervous as Blue was feeling. Her eyes locked onto the face of the man and she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

Smiling nervously, George Spense stared back at his daughter. "Hello, Sara."

"Daddy..." Blue flew across the small room and straight into her father's arms, tears pouring unashamedly down her face. His own tears matched hers as he hugged her tightly. "Daddy, I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too, love." Holding her close, George felt like he was about to burst with joy. His little girl remembered him and didn't hate him. "I've been looking for you for ages and I couldn't find you."

Torn between laughing and crying, Blue drew back to look up at her father. He looked just the same as she remembered. A little less hair on top, but that didn't make much of a difference. "It-it was mum." She explained haltingly. 

"I guessed, love." He pulled her into his arms again and kissed her forehead. "You're lucky that you had a friend as stubborn as yours to hunt me down." He nodded towards the door, where Tommy was nervously peeking in.

"Tommy? You found my daddy?" Blue whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Yeah, kid." Edging back into the room, Tommy shrugged. "Couldn't have you walking down the aisle on your own, could we?" Immediately, Tommy found herself with an armful of Blue and laughed hoarsely. "Easy, kiddo. Save that for your old man and your sisters."

"S-sisters?" Blue returned to her father's side. "Is Stephi here?"

"She's right outside the door." He nodded, smiling. "Stephi, you can come in."

The twenty-three-year-old nervously looked into the rapidly-filling room and stopped short at the sight of Blue. "Omigod...Rara?"

"Tiffi!"

"Dammit! Now I really am gonna cry." Tommy wailed, hastily plunging a hand down the front of her dress to fish out a tissue from her bra as the two sisters clashed into a tight hug in the middle of the room.

"Look at you, Rara!" Stephanie held her sister at arm's length, studying her. "God! You've...well, you haven't grown much, but your hair! Wow! It's neat!"

"And you got specs!"

"And you got piercings!" She cocked her head to look at Blue's left arm. "And tattoos!"

Blue grinned. "You make me sound like a rebel or something, Tiffi."

"Just don't tell me got a Harley or somethin'..."

"Um...okay. I won't tell you."

"Omigod! You got a Harley?" Blue nodded. "You gotta take me for a ride on that thing!"

A cough interrupted. "Sorry to break up the reunion," Tommy said apologetically. "But... uh... yeah, the minister-guy is saying we better hurry up if we want a chance of a proper piss-up before we have to go to work."

Sniffing, Blue scrubbed at her face with another tissue from Tommy's bra. "I think that's our cue to walk me down the aisle." She started to reach for the veil, but her father reached it first and drew it down in front of her face.

"This man of yours seems like a good one." George said quietly, as he took his daughter's arm.

"You spoke to Andy?" 

"Very briefly, before his friends dragged him off to put some clothes on him." George answered with a smile. "He loves you very much."

Blue nodded, squeezing her father's hand. "I know." They reached the top of the aisle and four women - or three women and a man in spectacular drag to be particular - in pale blue dresses backed them up. "Here we go."

The doors opened onto the aisle and a chapel full of people, some of whom Blue recognised and others who she could guess. However, her attention immediately went to the far end of the aisle, to where her husband-to-be was standing.

She was barely aware of the music, or the people around them as she and her father started to make their way down the aisle. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest and she felt her face was bound to crack from smiling so widely.

All the time, her eyes never left Andy.

He had never looked more dashing.

Clad in a quazi-formal tuxedo, his long, dark hair was brushed back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. The collar of his shirt and the front of his jacket were open, looking wonderfully casual, despite his formal clothing.

Like her with her Doc Martens instead of stilettos.

The comparison made her chuckle.

"He's cute, Rara." Stephanie hissed from behind her.

"So I keep telling her." Moni added in an undertone, making Blue giggle again.

They reached the altar and Andy and George lifted her hand off his arm, giving her a proud, lingering look. "I love you, Sara." He leaned in to gently kiss her cheek through her veil. "Don't you ever forget that."

Sniffing again, Blue turned to Andy, as her father passed her hand to her fiancé.

Drawing her up onto the step that was above the one he was standing on, so that she was 'almost' the same height as him, Andy reverently lifted her delicate veil back from her face, beaming down at her. "You look beautiful." He murmured, bending to kiss her on the forehead.

"You're not too bad yourself." She replied gruffly, trying to cover fresh tears of happiness.

Andy smiled. "So, Shorty, think this place'll do?" He asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Remind me to kill you in nasty ways for this." She tried to act annoyed, but was belied by the broad and incredibly painful happy smile on her face.

"I'll remind you after the Honeymoon." He winked.

"You planned a...?" Blue started to ask, but was cut off as a tall, red-haired, gangly-looking minister who looked about the same age as Andy, clad in long, black robes with a white dog-collar stepped forward.

"Hi everybody!" He called, loudly enough for everyone to hear him.

"Hi Reverend Nick!" The whole congregation seemed to yell back and Blue couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Only you," She hissed up at the grinning Andy. "Could arrange to bring up something from The Simpsons at our wedding."

"Love you, shorty."

"Love you too."

"Ahem?" Both of them look at the Minister. "Can we start so we can get to the piss-up already?"

Blue looked at Nick, then up at Andy suspiciously. "Are you sure he's a real minister?"

"As sure as I am that he's somehow related to me."

"So I'm going to be related to him?" Andy nodded, still grinning. "Oh dear..." Turning to Nick, she gave him a once over. "Well, it could be worse." She sighed, then nodded. "Okay, do what you gotta do..."

Nick smiled, then began. "Mawwidge...mawwidge is what bwings us togewah, today. That bwessed union. That dweam...within a dweam..."

Blue silently prayed that she wouldn't wet herself with laughter before the ceremony finished.


End file.
